When He Taught Me How To Dance
by SherLoKitty'd
Summary: Rosie Monaghan despairs at the fact that courtesy and good manners seem to be very much a thing of the past. However, when she moves into her new house in Devon, little did she expect to discover a secret door which leads her into the world of the dashing Captain James Nicholls.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello, all! I thought I'd have a stab at writing a fanfic for War Horse. This story is based on the film as I've never read the book, something I hope to do one day. _

_Summary: Rosie Monaghan despairs at the fact that courtesy and good manners seem to be very much a thing of the past. However, when she moves into her new house in Devon, little did she expect to discover a secret door which leads her into the world of the dashing Captain James Nicholls. _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with War Horse and as much I'd love to, I don't own Hiddles *cries at the unfairness of this fact* The story's title is inspired by the song 'When You Taught Me How To Dance' by Katie Melua. _

* * *

**When He Taught Me How To Dance :: Chapter One **

"Almost there, Rosie!" trilled my mother cheerfully from the car seat next to me, removing her sunglasses and placing them on her head, as we drove along a seemingly endless country lane.

_Thank god for that, _I thought, letting out yet another jaw-popping yawn. Long car journeys always made me feel tired, even though the window was wide open to let the summer breeze hit my face and make my already unruly hair fly in all directions.

I gazed drowsily out of the window, watching field after rolling field slide by. My mother, Clare Monaghan, was driving and humming along to the Barry Manilow CD she had brought along for the tediously long drive to Devon from our old house. Right at this moment, we had left the busy motorway behind and were making our way along a narrow lane which seemed to go on for eternity.

"Mm," was all I grunted in reply.

"Oh, come on!" urged Mum. "You could sound a little more enthusiastic."

"Yeah...great, Mum," I forced out of my mouth, a bit more irate than I had meant it to be. Normally, I'm much more of a cheerful and upbeat disposition. Unfortunately, PMS had decided to rear its ugly head and was causing me to be grumpy and irritable. Hello, pimples and bloated stomach.

I saw my mother glance over at me and shake her head at my crabbiness. As we continued down the lane, I immediately felt bad for snapping at her. After all, it wasn't Mum's fault that my dad had left her for some thirty-something blonde bimbo. Although I had never told her so, I was actually very proud of how my mother had handled the whole situation.

When my parents got divorced, I was well aware of what other people said about my mum: "Isn't she wonderful?", they would say, like she was a simple soul who had just learned to tie her shoelaces. What they really meant was: "Isn't it wonderful that she isn't riddled with bitterness and with a long-term Prozac habit since her husband left her?" Usually I prided myself on my knack of tapping into what other people really thought but sometimes I hated it. I knew that our friends all expected Mum to slide into a decline when she and Dad broke up.

But she had proved them all wrong. Instead of burying her head in the sand and moping, my mother happily announced to me one day that she was a new woman and that she felt completely free and liberated. She reckoned we needed a brand new start. And how had she celebrated this new-found freedom? By fulfilling a life-long dream and buying a property down in Devon, hoping to start her own cupcake baking business.

We turned down another even narrower road – if that was possible – which twisted in every direction you could think of. Mum's battered old Ford bumped its way over the gravelly surface, which was doing nothing for my already throbbing belly. Just when I was wondering when this vibrating torture was ever going to end, Mum slowed the car and pulled into a lay-by.

"We're here!" she announced happily.

I looked out of the window. But I only saw an overgrown hedge, what looked like an old shed and a rusty gate which looked like it hadn't been used for centuries. But I didn't see a house.

"Where's the house?" I felt the need to ask anyway. It _had _to be here!

"There's a footpath on the other side of the gate which will take us to the house," Mum explained, hopping out of the car. "Come on, then. Give us a hand unloading..."

We had brought the bare essentials with us in the car; a cool-box full of food, several duffel bags of clothes and other personal items and sleeping bags. I lifted the heavy cool-box with all the strength I could muster out, whilst Mum grabbed two duffel bags.

"Leave the cool-box for now, we'll come back for it," she said. "Pop it back in the car before some wild animals bigger than you get to it..." Laughing at the alarmed expression on my face, she added, "Oh, Rosie, you goose, it was a joke! This is Devon, not the Australian Outback... "

She nudged me playfully and headed for the footpath. I heaved the cooler back into the car and grabbed the sleeping bags instead. I broke into a jog to catch up with my mother, who was already way ahead of me. Clare Monaghan was a bit of a fitness fanatic; she was a regular swimmer, runner, cyclist and attended aerobics and yoga classes. It seemed rather ironic to me that someone who was as health-conscious as my mother would run a business which produced something decidedly so _un_healthy. All in all, she was in much better shape than I was; this walk to the house felt more like a strenuous hike to me.

I berated myself to be much more positive about the new house. Perhaps it would be one of those quaint chocolate-box cottages with a thatched roof and roses around the door. Maybe it was one of those gorgeously unusual houses with large, airy rooms and intriguing nooks and crannies; a rambling garden with an armless statue of a Greek goddess hiding shyly behind a gown of ivy... With these mental images, I began to feel quite excited.

However, when Mum and I rounded some trees and reached an open clearing to reveal our new house, my heart sank. It was anything _but _new. It wasn't quaint. It wasn't chocolate-boxy. No thatched roof... No roses... It was in actual fact, a _dump. _

It was a Victorian property, the exterior a reddish-brown colour but the entire place looked tired, shabby and looked as if it had definitely seen better days. Even from where I stood, I could see missing windowpanes; a couple of gaping holes in the roof where tiles had fallen down and paint was peeling off the front door in great chunks. It was pretty obvious that nobody had lived in this house for _years. _Why on earth had my mother bought this place? Because it was cheap? Knowing Mum, that was more than likely.

My excitement over the house gone as quickly as it had arrived, I followed Mum inside. My eyes were immediately drawn to a wide, dark staircase slap-bang in the middle of the hallway.

"Soooo... what d'you think, love? Isn't it _fabulous?_" Mum gushed enthusiastically, her voice echoing slightly in the almost-empty room.

Fabulous? Definitely not the word I would have chosen.

My eyes travelled the length of the living area which was now chock-a-block with boxes and our wrapped up furniture which had been brought down the day before. Old-fashioned wallpaper covered the walls and the whole place smelt musty and damp. And it was strangely dark, even though it was bright and sunny outside. I wouldn't have been surprised if the place was haunted.

But I saw my mother waiting for my reaction on tenterhooks, her face aglow with a happy excitement. I hadn't seen her so happy in ages. So I decided to bite back what I truly thought. Who was I to stomp on my mum's dream of living in the country? I gave her a big smile.

"I'm sure this place will be perfect, Mum," I said.

Mum grinned back at me and gave me an affectionate squeeze.

"Leave the sleeping bags there, and come give me a hand with the cool-box," she called to me, already making her way back outside. I tore my eyes away from the living area and followed her.

Five minutes later, the cool-box was put in the kitchen which, I realised with horror, had no appliances whatsoever.

"The new fridge-freezer, oven and microwave are being delivered tomorrow," Mum said, as though reading my mind, "We can eat what we brought... Cheese sandwiches sound good to you?"

"Yeah...sounds great," I answered with absolutely no conviction in my voice at all, watching Mum bustle about, shifting cardboard boxes, her tawny-coloured ponytail bouncing as she moved.

I looked nothing like my mother. While she was curvy and petite, I was tall and lanky like Dad, with a head of wild raven curls. Mum and I do have the same green eyes though. 'Laser-Eyes' I call them, especially if we get angry about anything.

Mum immediately picked up on my sullen tone and looked at me, obviously sensing no enthusiastic vibes about the house despite what I had said earlier.

"Why don't you go choose yourself a bedroom, eh?" she suggested brightly.

This sounded a good a plan as any so I headed for the stairs, ignoring the odd look Mum was giving me. I couldn't blame her really. I was usually much chipper than this. I suppose today wasn't my day.

I winced as the stairs creaked ominously loud at every step I took, half thinking that the whole lot was going to disintegrate beneath me and I would be pitched headlong into dark, dusty oblivion. As soon as I thought this, I sped up a little in panic and was relieved when I had made it the top of the stairs still in one piece.

I checked out the first bedroom and immediately wrinkled my nose at the sight of the walls which were black with damp and the beamed ceiling which, if the cobweb content was anything to go by, was home to an entire colony of spiders. I promptly abandoned this room to explore the others. Another much larger bedroom with a window overlooking the field behind the house which Mum would probably favour; a dingy bathroom and a third bedroom, which I now entered.

This room was just as dusty as the rest of the house but at least the walls weren't damp here. The late afternoon sun was struggling to shine through the large window at the far end, it was so caked in grime. Next to the window was a long red curtain pulled across to hide part of the wall. I walked across the room, dust bunnies dancing away from my feet as I padded my way over the floor.

I pulled back the curtain, coughing slightly from the clouds of yet more dust which floated off the moth-eaten material. To my surprise, however, there wasn't another window. Behind the curtain was a door.

I blinked. _Why is there a door here? _I wondered, cocking an eyebrow. This was the end of the house and this was the upper storey. It wouldn't _go _anywhere.

I reached out and turned the handle to see if it would open but it didn't budge.

My eyes swept over the door. Like everything else in the house, it was dilapidated-looking and completely unremarkable to look at. What caught my attention, however, was the handle and keyhole. Both appeared to be made of brass. It was the elaborate carvings around the handle and keyhole which got me interested, though. A couple of identical brass horse's heads on either side. The keyhole was massive – about the length of my thumb, I would say – and I thought it had to be one hell of a big key to fit into it.

I briefly wondered where the key to this door was until I spotted something else; there was some kind of inscription carved around the handle. Squinting slightly, I could just make out the swirly writing.

_Humanitatem est ut multo notam a generosum animi._

I could only assume this was Latin but as my knowledge of the language was extremely poor, I had no idea what the words meant. I made a mental note to Google it once we had internet connection.

I dug into my jeans pocket and brought out a hair grip and tried to see if I could pick the lock.

"Rosie!" my mother's voice echoed through the house from downstairs. "Dinner's ready, love!"

Letting out a faint sigh of disappointment, I abandoned my attempts of unlocking the door for now and left the room.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello, lovelies! Oh my gosh golly gracious me...reviews! Thank you so much for the feedback, I can't tell you how much it means to me :D _

_**Elizabeth: **__Thank you very much for reviewing! I'm happy you like it so far. Hope you continue reading :) _

_**Sweets And Charades: **__Glad you found my first chapter promising, sweetie. And yes indeed, I love Lost in Austen, how about you? :) (that's sort of where I got the idea from!) Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, I really appreciate it. _

_**Lulu: **__Thanks so much! I really appreciate your thoughts. I hope you continue finding my story interesting! _

_**4everYoung93: **__Thank you so much for your kind and encouraging words, lovely! I really appreciate the fact that you actually took the time to Google the phrase – it was actually meant to translate as 'Courtesy is as much a mark of a gentleman as courage' though I've found the Google translator isn't that reliable, it keeps coming back with different results. If anyone does know the correct translation, please let me know and I'll go back and correct it. Anywho, I'm so happy to hear you like my story so far. It never occurred to me until you pointed it out the similarities to Coraline, haha. Don't worry, I won't leave it too long for the lovely James to appear ;) Thank you for the encouragement, though :) I hope you continue to read/review! _

_**Sunkissedvampire: **__Thanks very much, your review really made me smile :) Hope you keep reading/reviewing, sweetie ^-^ _

_**Guest: **__I'm so happy to hear you liked the first chapter, I hope that you keep on reading. Thanks for commenting! :) _

_And a big thank you to those who've already added to their alert/favourites too. Hugs for you all! Enough rambling from me... I hope you all enjoy this second instalment! _

* * *

**Chapter Two **

We had been living in the new house for just over a month now and I was slowly getting used to living in the Devon countryside. It was strange at first but it did make a refreshing change to be awoken by the sound of birdsong rather than the noisy rush of traffic and blaring sirens. Mum and I had worked really hard to make this place liveable again. The kitchen and bedrooms were pretty much done even though the downstairs area still needed redecorating. When I wasn't helping Mum making this place fit for human habitation, I had been busy job-hunting online.

But I hadn't forgotten about that door. Well, it was hard _not _to, seeing as my bed was now facing it. I had asked Mum about the whereabouts of the key but all she had were the keys for the front and back doors, the garage and shed. None of those were anywhere near big enough to fit in that door. I had searched the entire house but no luck. I'd even looked in all the other rooms to see if there were other doors like it but no; this was the only one. I could only assume the key was lost or somebody else had it.

Right at this moment, I was sitting cross-legged on my bed in my pyjamas with my laptop perched in front of me. My new bedroom had been painted a pale lilac, the window had been fixed up and now with all my furniture and favourite things around me, it was now quite a lovely, airy room – a far cry from how it had been a month ago.

Just as I had promised myself, I tapped into Google the phrase that was carved on the door handle. I had been correct in assuming it was Latin; it turned out to translate as:

_Courtesy is as much a mark of a gentleman as courage. _

I had absolutely no idea what that was supposed to mean. On a whim, I put my cursor back to the Google search bar and added the word 'door' after the Latin phrase. Then after a second's thought, I added 'key' as well and pressed the enter button. I honestly didn't expect any results from it. However...

'_1 result (0.33 seconds)', _it read on the screen and underneath was a link to an ad on eBay. Intrigued, I clicked on it.

There was a photo of an old wooden box with those same Latin words inscribed on its lid, and next to it was an ornate brass key. The handle was round and in the middle of it was a carving of a horse's head – exactly identical to the ones on the keyhole! Eyes wide and my heart thudding, I read the rest of the ad.

_Antique collectible key, circa. 1912. Horse head detail. In good condition. £50.00 _

_I inherited this key some years ago but it does not fit anything I own. I have heard stories the key went to a door but the key was never united with it. Would make a great collector's item. _

_Free UK delivery. _

They wanted fifty pounds for it? That didn't seem a lot for something that was as old as they claimed it was. _Should I get it? _

I turned my gaze to my stuffed toy spotty dog, Olly, who was sitting on the bed next to me.

"What do you think?" I asked him. "_Should_ I get it?"

But, as ever, Olly didn't have anything constructive to say.

I pursed my lips and drummed my fingers in thought, my mouse cursor hovering over the 'Buy it now'. No doubt my mother would lecture me like no tomorrow for wasting my money on something that was apparently useless. But for some reason I couldn't explain, I _really _wanted this key. There could have been anything behind the door; secret documents or a lost treasure or something. I might get a reward! After a few seconds of wondering whether or not I was being ripped off, I finally made up my mind and clicked the mouse. There, I had done it!

I let out a breath I had not realised I had been holding and glanced over at my clock on the wall. It was nearly midnight. Damn it. I had an early start for my new job tomorrow.

Shutting off my laptop, I climbed into bed, wondering whether I had done the right thing in purchasing that key...

* * *

I had managed to get myself a job at the local zoo. Before you ask, no, it wasn't anything to do with the animals. I was working in the zoo's restaurant as a catering assistant, so I was feeding the tourists rather than the animals. _Hooray for me! _

I was working with another woman called Maureen who was in her thirties, and was already a mother of three; a man called Richie, who was as miserable as sin and reminded me of a Basset hound with his droopy, slightly bloodshot eyes. But it was the other two workers who I took a great liking to: Alice and Imogen Carter were twin sisters and were working at the zoo just to help pay their rent. They were twenty-one, making them two years older than myself.

At first, it was a bit of a nightmare trying to decipher which twin was which as they had the same long, blonde hair and hazel eyes. In fact, it was a favourite prank of theirs, tricking people on who was who. But as I got to know them, I noticed that Alice had a narrower face than her sister and was much more thoughtful and serious. She was also engaged to be married to a doctor. Lucky duck. She was going to be rolling in it once she'd tied the knot with her man. Imogen, on the other hand, was a total girly-girl and giggled a _lot _– which drove me a bit insane – and she seemed incapable of talking for any length of time without smiling.

However, both of them were very nice to me and taken me under their wing, being the newbie. I could tell the difference when someone was genuinely nice and fake nice. Thankfully, Alice and Imogen fell under the former category. I had only been working at the zoo for three weeks and I already loved it and my co-workers.

After the zoo closed up for the day, the three of us had got into the habit of popping into McDonalds together before heading home. Making our way across the park, we had to walk past the Snow Leopard enclosure which, at this very moment, was being renovated; it had scaffolding erected around it and builders all over the place.

As soon as we began walking past them, the builders promptly started wolf-whistling and shouting out obscene comments like "Get yer tits out, luv!" and "Nice arse!"

I jerked my head around in annoyance even though I knew perfectly well it wasn't me they were hollering at. I didn't have any curves whatsoever or any need of a bra because my boobs were practically non-existent. Alice and Imogen were of the blonde and curvy variety; no wonder those builders wolf-whistled at them.

"Honestly..." I growled, "What do they expect women to do when they shout out things like that? Do they think that they're going to sigh dreamily and go "_Ohh! My future lies with him!"?_ Don't think so, somehow..."

"They're just showing off, Rosie," Imogen said dismissively, who didn't mind getting _any _sort of attention from men, no matter how crude. "They're harmless enough."

"But it's disrespectful," I continued, as I felt very strongly about this. "What makes them think they've got the right to shout at women like that? Whatever happened to courtesy and guys behaving like gentlemen?"

"You were _so_ born in the wrong era, Rosie," said Alice in amusement. "You sound like our old gran... " She put on a croaky voice which I gathered was an imitation of the twins' gran. " '_Back in my day, men were _real _men...' _You're so old-fashioned."

She made it sound almost an appealing an asset as herpes. But what was wrong with that, anyway? In my opinion, a lot of old-fashioned gestures of chivalry were very much underappreciated these days. It seemed that a lot of girls responded more to bad boy, knuckle-head types who were disrespectful and brutal towards women. As for the quip about me being born in the wrong era, now I couldn't disagree with that. I was _completely_ in love with all those period stories, like _Jane Eyre _and _Pride and Prejudice_; nothing made me happier than to be lost in a world of yesteryear. I loved the clothes, the courtesy and manners, the language...everything. Just trying to recapture the loveliness of days gone by. _If only... _

I just thought my attitude towards men in general had taken a downward spiral ever since I had found out my dad had cheated on Mum. I didn't bring up the subject again as we all piled into Alice's car and made our way to McDonalds. I knew it was falling on deaf ears, anyway.

* * *

"So, what's this key you were worrying about?" Imogen asked me as we were tucking into our desserts. She wore so many bangles, they clanged on the tabletop. She sounded like a plumber emptying his tool bag.

"I ordered it off eBay," I explained. "I just thought it would've arrived by now."

"How long ago did you order it?" Alice asked, frowning slightly, poking her McFlurry round and round its pot.

"About three weeks ago...why?"

When Alice only shrugged, her smiley doppelganger said, "I'm sure it'll arrive soon."

I looked up and noticed that a bit of ice cream had dribbled onto Imogen's chin slightly.

"Are you eating that McFlurry or wearing it, Im?" commented Alice lightly, pointing at her sister's face. Imogen felt her chin.

"Ugh, gross!" she cried in disgust, snatching up a paper napkin.

"God, I can't take you anywhere, you're so embarrassing!" Alice hissed, rolling her eyes.

"Shut up, I'm your sister...it's my job to be embarrassing... "

As the twins bickered, I contented myself in looking out of the window, watching people's cars zooming in and out from the nearby road, picking up their orders from the drive-through. Then something caught my eye... _Swoon alert with knobs on! _An extremely good-looking young man was making his way towards the McDonalds entranceway. I watched as he disappeared from view for a moment, then the door swung open again and he meandered his way to the counter. He had a mop of wavy, dark hair, a handsome, clever-looking face and was dressed in motorbike gear. He also had the most beautiful shade of chocolate-brown eyes I had ever seen.

"What're you looking at?" I heard Alice's voice demand suddenly.

It seemed that she and Imogen had ceased arguing for the moment. I only jerked my head in the hot guy's direction in answer and both twins craned their necks round. He was waiting for his order, leaning casually against the counter. He glanced in our direction briefly and both girls whipped their heads back round to face me. Imogen let out a silly little squeal which made a couple of people in the vicinity stare at her strangely, whilst Alice immediately dived under her seat to retrieve her bag for a mirror and some lipgloss. Honestly, what were they like?

I noticed out of the corner of my eye that he was still looking our way. I tore my gaze away to look at Alice, who was checking her reflection critically in her mirror.

"Hey, Wonderland, aren't you supposed to be engaged?" I reminded her, raising my eyebrows pointedly.

"So?" she retorted without looking at me, slicking on a layer of pink onto her lips. "That doesn't mean I'll be joining a nunnery, does it? I can still appreciate a bloke's hotness when I see one!"

I glanced over to see the man pay for his meal and he began heading in _our_ direction. But then he steered into a seat across from us. Imogen had stuffed her finger into her mouth, obviously fighting the impulse to giggle – which was a miracle for her. The hot biker guy had unfurled what seemed to be a map and was studying it as he sipped at his coke. The twins immediately started up yet another whispered argument on who was going to engage him in conversation first. Couldn't they just leave the poor bloke alone?

They were both so busy hissing "No, _you _talk to him!" "No, _you!_" like a pair of angry geese that neither of them noticed him approach.

"Excuse me... ?"

Both of them jumped so violently, I thought Imogen was in danger of spilling ice cream down herself again.

"H-hi," I said a little shakily. I thought my heart was going to explode out of my chest. He was even more handsome up close.

"Hi... Are any of you ladies locals at all?" he enquired.

I tried to answer, "Uh..." and I felt stupid. Why couldn't I string two intelligent words together?

"_We _are," Imogen chimed in with a huge smile, which was followed by a 'thud'. "Ow!"

I had the sneaking suspicion that Alice had kicked her sister under the table.

"It's just that I've got a parcel to deliver and the address I'm looking for seems to be off the beaten track - my sat-nav's not picking it up... I was just wondering if you knew it at all...?"

My ears pricked up at the mention of the word 'parcel'. Could it possibly be...?

"A parcel? Who for?" I asked, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"Um... " The biker reached into his pocket for a piece of paper and he checked the scribbled writing there. "... someone with the name of Monaghan...a Miss Rosie Monaghan – "

"That's me!" I gasped, jumping to my feet excitedly. He looked a bit startled at my outburst. I blushed and sat down again. "I mean, uh... I'm Rosie Monaghan," I continued meekly.

"Oh, great!" he grinned at me, his chocolate eyes sparkling. _Oh, god, I think I just died... _"Let me just finish my burger and I'll fetch your parcel for you, okay?"

"No probs," I answered.

"I'm Michael, by the way," he added, before heading back to his seat. "Michael Paris."

After all of us had finished our meals, the twins and I followed Michael out to his motorbike parked outside. He reached into the storage compartment at the back of the bike and heaved out a cardboard box. He held it out for me.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?" he said, not letting go of the box. He seemed almost reluctant in handing it over to me.

"Depends what it is," I said, smiling nervously.

"Can I ask _why _you ordered it?"

I thought this was rather an odd question. However, I racked my brains for an excuse.

"I uh...collect antiques," I invented wildly. "And I just like keys in particular."

Michael only stared at me for a moment and I shot him what I hoped was an innocent, friendly smile.

"Right," he murmured eventually, allowing me to take the parcel at last. He leaned his head closer to me and I felt my heart speed up a little. "You should show me your collection one day," he said in a rather flirtatious tone. I swallowed nervously. Imogen giggling away in the background wasn't helping matters, either.

"I've not long moved here," I rambled. "I haven't unpacked any of it yet."

"No problem..." he said easily, reaching into his pocket once again and handing me a little card. "Here's my number in case you want to get in contact with me..."

With that said, he jammed his helmet onto his head, swung his leg over the bike, and kick-started it into life. The engine roared and he was off. I stared at the card in my hand. All that was written there was his name and mobile number; otherwise it was completely plain.

"Oh...my...god, I can't _believe _that guy gave you his _number!_" Imogen squealed, clapping her hands excitedly.

For some reason, I didn't share in her enthusiasm. It wasn't every day that a gorgeous bloke like Michael gave me their phone numbers – in fact, that _never _happened to me. My mind was buzzing with a great suspicion instead of excitement. The same man who was delivering my key just _happening _to be at McDonalds at the same time as me? What were the odds on that? Perhaps I was just being paranoid... Then something else occurred to me; why had he taken it upon himself to deliver the parcel _himself? _Why not just send it in the post?

I pocketed the card for now and followed the twins to their car with my parcel, feeling confused and a bit unnerved by the whole thing.

* * *

_So how was this chapter, my pretties? I promise that the delectable Captain will be in the next one! Reviews will be welcomed and treasured. Until next time, lovelies! Xx _


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello, darlings! Thanks SO much for the reviews on the last chapter, they really do bring a smile to my face! Did anyone here watch Tom Hiddleston in The Hollow Crown out of interest? He was brilliant! Okay, I'll stop with my fangirling... _

_**4everYoung93: **__Thank you so much, lovely! I'm glad that you love the twins, they're great fun to write, I must say. Thank you for saying that you like and can relate to Rosie; I'm not very confident when it comes to writing OCs, I have to admit. And I really don't mind if you gush! ;) _

_**Ren: **__Thanks for reviewing my story, especially when you haven't even seen War Horse. Have you had the chance to watch it since I last updated? My story starts before the events of the movie and then it will continue through it. I have a soft spot for those types of stories too! It took a long time for me to pluck up the courage for me to post this though :) Thanks again! _

_**Lulu: **__Lol, there's nothing wrong with talking to your toys! :P Thank you so much, I'm happy you loved the last chapter. I'm glad you like my OCs. And wait no longer, he's gonna turn up soon! :D _

_**Guest: **__Thank you very much! You're right to be suspicious about Michael but that's all I'm saying for now ;) I didn't picture anyone in particular for him to be honest. I'll leave that up to the imagination of my readers. Who did you imagine he looked like, out of interest? :) I'm glad you liked the phrase, I thought it summed up Captain Nicholls' personality pretty well. Thanks again for reviewing, dear, it means a lot! _

_**FreakOfNatureStuckInReality: **__Oh my gosh, you're reading this! Hooray! :D Thank you for reviewing! Oh, my laptop still isn't fixed yet, I'm pretty pissed about it. I definitely recommend you see War Horse again :) yes, I thought you would like Tom's character, hehe! Thank you for saying you like my OCs and I hope you carry on reading. _

_And an extra thank you to those lovely people who are following this and have added to their favourites. Without further ado, here's chapter 3! _

* * *

**Chapter Three **

A storm was brewing outside the next day. The sky was iron-grey and the clouds were thick and ominous-looking. Thunder rumbled loudly from time to time, though it had not yet started to rain.

At one particularly loud rumble, I muttered, "Ooh. Thor's angry."

I had never liked thunderstorms; they always tended to freak me out. Thank god that I was indoors. I heaved the parcel I had gotten from the mysteriously gorgeous Michael Paris from my desk and onto my bed. I ripped off the packaging, lifted out the wooden box and eyed it curiously. Like I had seen in the photo online, it was made of a dark mahogany with a gold leafy vine design around the edges, which was looking worn from age. Across the lid in matching golden letters was that Latin phrase. I unhooked the latch at the front of the box and opened it.

For some reason, the key itself seemed bigger than I imagined it would be. It was heavy, about the length of my entire hand, made of brass and was a beautiful piece to behold. Turning it over and over in my hands, I could see ornate patterns of leafy vines had been engraved around it in such exquisite detail by a clearly expert hand. In the centre of its circular handle was a gorgeous engraving of a horse's head; the picture on eBay had not done it justice.

I directed my gaze to the door. I was tempted to go ahead and unlock it immediately. But I was distracted suddenly by the most delicious scent wafting through the house...the glorious smell of roasting potatoes and... I inhaled deeply. Lamb... Oh, god, I _loved _lamb! My hunger pangs quickly overcoming my curiosity over the door, I put the key back in its box and slipped it under my bed before heading downstairs. The door could wait for now...

When I arrived in the kitchen, it looked like Mum had prepared a feast to feed twenty people. This was a pleasant surprise. What with the both of us working all day, the most we normally managed was to whip something up quick which could be chucked into the microwave. Which was sort of a pity; Mum was a fabulous cook.

"Wow, Mum, you could feed the whole of Devon with this lot!" I told her.

"Well...I thought it'd be nice to do something a bit more special tonight," Mum said, uncorking a bottle of wine and pouring it into two glasses.

"Lovely," I said. "What's the occasion?"

"One of the local tea-rooms has agreed to let me supply them with _my_ cakes," Mum grinned excitedly.

"Aw, Mum, that's brilliant!" I cried, giving her a big hug.

"Well, it's a start," she said, though she was grinning like a Cheshire cat so I could tell she was super chuffed about it. She handed me over a wine glass before raising her own. "Here's to our new life here, huh?"

I smiled at her and we chinked glasses. We were just about to sit down to enjoy our dinner, when the phone rang. Both Mum and I looked at each other.

"Heads or tails?" I asked.

"Heads."

"_You _go."

Mum rolled her eyes good-humouredly and headed towards the hall to answer it. "I thought you had to toss a coin?" she called back.

"That's only in the fair version," I said with a laugh.

I heard Mum laugh as well and I leaned back in my chair and contentedly took a sip of wine. I was really pleased for Mum. She deserved to be a success after everything she'd gone through with Dad. Speak of the devil... A moment later, Mum had poked her head round the door.

"Rosie, it's Dad on the phone. Do you want to talk to him?"

Honestly? Not especially. My good mood evaporated on the spot. I hadn't actually spoken to my dad properly since Mum and I had moved. Mum mentioned he had rung once not long after we had moved in but I had been at work at the time. I still felt very resentful towards him for the hurt he had put Mum and me through and if I spoke to him, I didn't think I would trust myself to keep my mouth shut.

Something of my thoughts must have shown on my face because Mum was now giving me an expression which said 'Please talk to him – for my sake at least'. I sighed and went over to pick up the phone.

"Hi, Dad," I said.

"Hello, love. How's tricks?"

"Good, thanks. Got myself a job at the zoo..."

"Yes, your mum said," answered Dad. "D'you like it?"

"Yeah, it's great... How're things with you?" I hesitated for a moment and then deciding I should at least be civil, added, "How's Diana?"

Diana was the younger woman who Dad had left Mum for. I honestly couldn't give a monkey's toss how she was; I was only making conversation.

"She's fine," Dad said shortly. I heard him let out a sigh from the other end of the phone. "Look, sweetheart... I wanted to tell you the news myself... Diana and I have decided to live together and... " There was a long pause. "...we're thinking of getting married... "

I suddenly felt like someone had walloped me in the stomach. To say I was shocked was the understatement of the century. A tiny part of me – somewhat childishly – thought that there was a possibility Dad was ringing to say that he had ended things with Diana, that he was really, really sorry and perhaps he and Mum could start again. But no... It was bad enough that he had cheated in the first place. Now he was getting _married_ to her? A hot rush of anger surged in my throat like bile. What did he want? My congratulations? My blessing?

"Rosie? Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here," I said through gritted teeth.

"Did you hear what I said - ?"

"Yes, I heard you," I snapped. "You're getting married to that _tart – " _

"Rosie!" Mum hissed at me angrily.

"Diana is _not _a tart," Dad said, sounding cross, "and I'll thank you not to speak to me like that, Rosie. I'm your father... "

"Yeah, when it suits," I retorted. "So how does _Diana – _" I enunciated her name like it was poison. " – talk to you, huh? In such a way that it made you completely forget that you had a wife and daughter at home?" I added, using my sarcastic voice which I knew damn well was annoying.

"Rosie, that's enough!" Mum said fiercely, snatching the phone away from me and putting it to her ear. "I'm sorry, Steve... I think it's the shock talking... Yeah, I know... I'll call you back soon... Okay... Bye... " She hung up and turned to face me, her 'Laser-Eyes' blazing at me. No doubt mine was doing exactly the same. "What was that?" she demanded. I stared at her incredulously.

"He's _marrying_ the woman he was seeing behind your back!"

"Well, I'm not exactly doing cartwheels about it either, Rosie," Mum replied. "But_ I'm_ moving on with my life, so that's no reason why your dad can't. Look... " Her eyes softened and she took hold of my hands. "I know the divorce has upset you, love...you more than anyone, it seems... But surely you can see how much happier I am these days? I don't need a man in my life to make me happy. And if this Diana is the one who makes your dad happy, then so be it. I know it's hard to see him with someone new...Lord knows it's taken me long enough to come to terms with it."

I bowed my head slightly.

"I'm sorry..." I said quietly. "I didn't mean to be a bitch, it's just..." I shook my head and rubbed my temple; a headache was beginning to throb there. "I get so angry just at the thought of Dad and _her _being together behind our backs all that time... I wasn't thinking about what I was saying."

"No, that's the trouble, Rosie. You speak or act first and then think afterwards," Mum sighed, twirling a curly strand of my hair around her finger playfully. "Just leave it for now for things to cool down, then ring Dad back tomorrow to say sorry, alright?" I nodded. "Shall we have our dinner now?"

Somehow I didn't feel quite as hungry for the lamb as I was before, but I ate my food without complaint for Mum's sake. I skipped dessert altogether, however, and decided to head upstairs for an early night. I suddenly felt very tired and deflated after hearing Dad's news. I changed into my pyjamas and rummaged around in my desk drawer for my secret chocolate stash. If ever there was a time that I needed some chocolate, it was _now. _I broke off a large chunk of Toblerone and flopped back onto my bed. I hadn't imagined that Dad would actually get _married_ to Diana. I thought that perhaps he had been having some kind of midlife crisis; that it wouldn't last long and eventually he would come crawling back to Mum on his hands and knees, begging forgiveness and that it had been a huge mistake. Maybe I was kidding myself. But it seemed so_ soon_ after the divorce.

As if by some kind of magnetic force, my eyes were drawn to the door once again. Chewing thoughtfully on my Toblerone, I wondered – once again – why there was a door there in the first place. Now seemed as good a time as any to find out if there was anything behind it. I stuffed the rest of my chocolate into my mouth, swung my legs off the bed and bent down to fetch the key from its box.

Standing in front of the door, key in hand, I wondered if I was just making a complete fool of myself, that there was nothing behind it and all that I would find would be the bricks of the outside of the house. I slid the key into the lock; it offered no resistance which filled me with slight relief. I turned it clockwise and it let out a satisfyingly loud click.

_It worked! _I thought with glee, smiling like an idiot. _It actually worked! _

Grasping hold of the horse-shaped handle, I slowly pulled the door open, its hinges creaking as though in protest. Who knew when this door was last opened, if ever? All I was expecting to find at least was some sort of secret little cubbyhole. Inside, however... My jaw dropped. A staircase?

_But that's impossible!, _my mind screamed. That was the outer wall. Nothing should exist beyond this point. I ventured forward a couple of steps and saw the first three or four stairs of what was clearly a narrow wooden staircase. After that, I couldn't see much at all, it was just darkness. I stretched out a hand and grabbed at thin air but my fingertips met nothing. I must've looked really silly, flailing my arm around like a windmill. I opened the door wider to allow some of the light from my room to shine through and squinted into the gloom.

My heartbeat was racing like crazy and I was burning with curiosity. _Where _did these stairs go? There was only one way to find out... I bit my lip furiously, wondering whether I wasn't losing my mind completely, I stepped tentatively onto the first stair. They seemed stable enough. I looked back behind me, at the cosiness of my bedroom and briefly contemplated going back to tell Mum. But something told me I had to do this on my own. I let out a huge breath and began my slow descent down these impossible stairs which logically should not even be here and into this unknown abyss...

It seemed to take a long time, using my hands against the walls on either side of me to help guide me down. After what felt like hours, I stumbled slightly because I had reached the bottom and I hadn't expected it. It was lighter here, though not much.

I felt something brush against my bare arm and I jumped violently. What was this? I looked to my immediate right and spotted the sleeve of a jacket. My eyes beginning to adjust to the poor light, I looked around and saw that there was in fact a whole rail full of clothes. What the heck? Why were there _clothes _here? I stepped tentatively forward, more sleeves of jackets and shirts of various colours and fabrics tickling my arms. The more I looked, the more I realised they were all men's clothing, all old-fashioned and beautifully tailored. But where did they come from? _Why _were they here and who did they belong to?

I was just starting to wonder if there was any way out of here – wherever _here _was exactly – when I suddenly hit a dead end. _Oh great, now what? _I groped about in the darkness and my fingers closed around what felt like another door handle. I hesitated. What was I doing? Did I really want to go through this door? There could've been _anything_ behind it. Uncertainty and curiosity battled fiercely in my head but it was my curiosity in the end which triumphed. I had come this far, why not go all the way? Mind made up, I turned the handle and pushed the door open.

The door creaked as it swung open away from me and I winced. In the total silence, it sounded doubly loud. I put a finger to my lips, silently begging the door to stop creaking in case someone heard. My heart racing, I waited a few seconds and dared to take a peek around the doorframe. I blinked furiously a few times as light flooded my vision. But once my eyes were focused, what I saw nearly made me yelp out loud...

There laid out before me was another bedroom! _What the - ? _The first thing I noticed was a large four-poster bed right in front of me.

_I must be dreaming, _I concluded. _I'm really back in my own room and I've fallen asleep and this is all some elaborate dream, that's all. _

Slowly and carefully, I eased myself through the door of – what was it that was I stepping through, anyhow? I looked to see that it was a wardrobe. _How very Narnia-y, _I thought dryly.

I looked back at the four-poster but the curtains were drawn so I could not see its occupant. I crept on tippy-toes to the side of bed and listened carefully, biting my lip. I could hear the gentle breathing of whomever it was who owned this room. I side-stepped away from the bed, moving slowly and cautiously, not daring to touch anything. If I really _was_ dreaming, then I was scared that if I did touch something, the whole thing would shatter and disappear, which I didn't want at all.

I revolved slowly on the spot, eyes wide, not wanting to miss a single thing. The walls were pale blue in colour. On one wall, there was a fireplace with a gilt mirror hanging over it. Just in front of the window, there was a mahogany desk, upon which were piles of papers, books, inkwells and a pipe rack. On closer inspection, I could see some of the papers were drawings. I was dying to go and look at them properly but resisted the temptation. Instead, I continued to study the rest of the room.

There was a door at the other end of the bedroom, which lead to god knows where. Everything in this room was terribly old-fashioned. There was no sign whatsoever of any modern appliances...no TV, no music system - oh, unless you counted the gramophone in the corner. That aside, it was very lovely room and whoever lived here seemed pretty well-off. Everything was neat and obviously well cared for, judging by the way the polished surfaces glinted in the pale early morning light. Wait a minute... the _early morning _light? I whipped round to stare at the window. Sure enough, I could see that the sun's rays were peeking their way through the net curtains. What? How was that even possible? It was night time when I left my room!

I had no time to ponder over this for long because just at that moment, I heard a floorboard creak loudly and a male voice ask,

"How did you get in here?"

"AAAAHHH!"

I spun round to find myself staring into a pair of twinkling blue eyes which were mirroring my own astonishment. It seemed that the owner of this room had woken up at last. _Oh bugger, I'm in trouble now... _The man before me was tall, dressed in a plain night-shirt and his brownish-blonde hair was rumpled from sleep. And right at this moment he was gaping disbelievingly at me like I was the Ghost of Christmas Past.

"Who are you?" he asked.

His tone was firm but wasn't threatening in the least and yet I still flinched as if his words had physically struck me. Clearly sensing my fear, he held out an arm. "No, it's alright. I am not going to hurt you... Just tell me how did you come to be in here?

"I – "

I couldn't seem to speak. My throat had seized up and gone completely dry. He was gazing at me curiously, quickly studying me and I realised how strange I must've looked to him, me just wandering in here in my sleeveless pyjamas. Then before either of us could speak, I heard footsteps sounding from behind the other door at the other end of the room. This jolted me back to my senses; I didn't fancy being caught by anyone else and being busted for trespassing. When the man turned his head in the direction of the footsteps, I dove past him and bolted like a panicked rabbit through the wardrobe door.

"No, wait - !" I heard him call but I didn't dare stop. I practically flew back through the wardrobe and ran blindly up the seemingly never-ending stairs. When I saw the glow of the light from my bedroom, I could've cried with relief. I tumbled through the door, slammed it shut, locked it and yanked the key out of the lock. I backed up quickly and ended up sitting on the end of my bed, breathing hard as though I had just run a marathon. I stared fearfully at the door, my heart thudding frantically.

_What _had just happened? Was _this _the reason why that Michael guy had seemed a bit...odd? Did he _know _something about this? There was a knock on my door and I yelped in fright.

"Rosie?" But it was only Mum. She poked her head round the edge of the door. "Are you okay?" she asked me. I only nodded tremulously. "I just thought you were still upset over that conversation with your dad?"

For a moment I was wondered what she was talking about until I remembered Dad's phone call and his news of his engagement. Somehow it didn't seem such a big deal anymore.

"N-no," I stammered. "I'm fine. I-I'll just have to learn to get used to it, is all," I muttered, without really realising what I was saying. I saw Mum frown with concern.

"Are you sure you're alright? You're looking very pale."

"I'm fine, honestly," I told her. "Just tired." She shot me a smile.

"Okay...well, g'night, love. Sleep well."

"'Night, Mum."

But as hard as I tried, I didn't get a wink of sleep that night...and it wasn't anything to do with the thunderstorm outside.

* * *

_Okay, so it was just a teensy glimpse of Captain Nicholls...but I promise there'll be more of him to come! :) Until next time, lovelies. Please don't forget to review! Xx _


	4. Chapter 4

_Hello, darlings! Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews on the last chapter! What a lovely bunch you all are! I want to hug you all. Anywho, I'm curious; are you guys just fans of War Horse or of Tom Hiddleston in general? And does anyone like Benedict Cumberbatch as well? Just making friendly conversation really :) _

_**Guest: **__Aww, your review really made me smile! Lol, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to give you a heart attack *grins sheepishly* It could've been worse, I could've written that he wasn't wearing a shirt at all ;P I have to admit I had to Google Kit Harington as I've never watched Game of Thrones but he does make a great Michael actually! Hehe, I couldn't resist throwing in a Thor reference. I did consider going down a similar route as Lost in Austen and have Rosie already know the War Horse story but I decided not to in the end. Aw, that's too bad, you'll have to let me know if you manage to see The Hollow Crown. I hope you like this chapter and thank you so much for reading/reviewing :) _

_**FreakOfNatureStuckInReality: **__Haha, glad you liked the Thor line :D Aw, thanks for saying that, I was hoping that it wasn't too dragged out. Yay that you saw The Hollow Crown. I think it's hard for Tom *not* to be amazing really! Thank you so much for your comment! _

_**Lulu:**__ Haha, your review made me giggle! I'd be the same, I'd be chasing him round the room :P Thank you, I'm happy you enjoyed the chapter. I think Mr. Hiddleston could make sliced bread sexy to be honest ;P _

_**Guest: **__Yes, there is indeed a character in War Horse called Michael. But my Michael's got nothing to do with him :) Thank you for reading! _

_**Sweets And Charades: **__I was in such a crappy mood until I saw your review pop up in my inbox, you've no idea how much it cheered me up! Thank you! I'm so relieved people liked the last chapter, it took ages to write and make it seem plausible. So happy you loved the part when he called out to her, it was a total spur of the moment when I wrote that. Ooh, have you seen The Hollow Crown yet? I thought it was brilliant and I'm not even into Shakespeare that much. I know what you mean about Lost in Austen though. I *loved* what they did with Wickham's character :D I was kinda rooting for him and Amanda to get together in the end. But yes, Captain Nicholls beats them both hands down! Thanks so much for reviewing, dear! _

_**Ren: **__Oh god, I know! I was a total wreck the first time I watched it. That scene with the charge where it all slows down and goes quiet and his eyes widen as he knows what's going to happen to him...Ugh! Heartbreaking! I cried more over Nicholls but not the horse. Does that sound awful? Thank you for saying that about Rosie's issues with her dad; I've no idea how it feels to be in that situation so it was purely from imagination. Hm, James will have a job trying to explain that one, won't he? ;) Thanks for your wonderful review, sweetie, it really brightened my day :') and I feel honoured to know it was the longest one you've written. _

_**Humble Reader: **__Wow, thank you so much! :D I'm so happy to hear that. I hope you like this next chapter! :) Thank you for reviewing! _

_**Fairiemaiden96: **__Great pen name! Thank you, glad you're enjoying it so far. I hope you keep reading :D _

_**FlamePumpkin32: **__Thank you so much for the review! Well, who knows? You'll have to wait and see ;) And Michael is going to turn up later on in the story. Thanks for reading, lovely! _

_**Guest: **__Thank you muchly! I know, poor Rosie and James, both freaked out. Happy you like their introduction :D Thanks for commenting/reading! _

_**X-The Devil's Advocate-x: **__Hello! :D Yay, you read this! I'm so happy! Thank you for leaving not one but three reviews! Aww, I'm so glad you like Rosie and the twins. I don't find writing OCs very easy at all so that means a lot to me. Oh my god, I agree; I hate thunderstorms too. We had a really bad one a while back with thunder, lightning, the full works and it gave me the idea to write that into the story :P I can't imagine what it must be like to go through divorce. I'm happy to say my parents are happily married and I've never had that experience. How about you? Thanks so much for reading/reviewing especially when you haven't seen War Horse, it means a great deal :D _

_I hope you all enjoy this chapter! _

* * *

**Chapter Four **

"Is everything okay, Rosie?"

It took me a moment to realise someone was speaking to me. I tore my unfocused gaze away from the window and looked over to see Imogen looking at me with concern.

"What?" I asked vaguely.

"It's just you've been really quiet the last couple of days...we were just wondering if you were alright?"

Imogen, Alice and I were at work but we were all on our break. It was chucking down with rain outside so the three of us had sought refuge in the staff room. Normally we would wander around the different animal enclosures. What with it being a weekday, the zoo wasn't very busy at all. This didn't really help me; if I was busy, then it would stop my mind from wandering. Unsurprisingly, all I could think of was what was behind that door. The whole thing was just so _unbelievable, _so _impossible... _At times, I thought that I _did _dream the whole thing. But I knew for certain that I hadn't.

But something else had been niggling away in my brain as well; I kept thinking about how that other bedroom had been decorated...the style of the clothes in the wardrobe...the fact that there hadn't been anything modern there at all. What was it that the ad on eBay had said? That key was made circa 1912? I don't know what made me think it...call it an overactive imagination at work or simply women's intuition...but something told me that the other room belonged to another time period completely... But whenever I entertained this possibility, I shook my head impatiently. That couldn't be true, it just couldn't... Could it? And what about the man I met while I was there? Who was he?

"Im, you're so nosy," Alice told her sister reproachfully now. "If Rosie doesn't want to tell us, it's up to her."

She took a bite out a chocolate bar as she spoke. Alice was always nibbling on something. I swear she had the eating habit of a hobbit.

"I ain't being nosy, I'm only showing concern for a friend," answered Imogen. "And if you keep scoffing the choccy, you'll never fit into your wedding dress," she added in a slight sing-song voice.

"I wouldn't worry...Jason and I haven't even set a date yet." answered Alice grumpily.

I detected resentment in that sentence. Actually, come to think of it, Alice never seemed to speak of her fiancé very enthusiastically. Imogen sighed and turned back to me, a motherly expression on her face.

"Aw, c'mon, babes...you can talk to us. Whatever it is, it can't be _that _bad, can it?"

I hesitated. I didn't know what to tell them. As much as I liked the twins, I hadn't known them very long so I didn't know whether I could trust them with something as big as this. But bottling it all up inside of me was driving me nuts. I hadn't said anything to Mum. If I didn't tell _somebody, _I think I would explode.

I quickly glanced around the staff room to make sure that we were the only three in here, pulled over a chair and sat down.

"Okay..." I said, letting out a huge breath. "But you have to promise that this stays between us, okay?" Both girls nodded simultaneously. "Alright...There's this door in my room, right... "

And so, I proceeded to tell them everything that happened since I ordered the key, right to the point when I first entered the other room through the wardrobe. I even shared with them my theory that the door lead to another era. Both girls stared at me with wide eyes after my story. Imogen was the first to react – though not in the way I had hoped. She let out a snort and then a series of raucous giggles. _So what was new? _

"Yeah...okay, Rosie," she said sarcastically. "You _do _know that _The Chronicles of Narnia _is just a story, don't you?"

"Shut up!" I told her crossly. "I'm being serious!"

Imogen recovered from her giggling fit...eventually.

"Alright, so what happened next?" she asked, though I could tell she was only humouring me.

"I was just having a look around the place...then it dawned on me that it was morning there," I continued. "Which didn't make any sense at all – it was night when I left my room... "

I was interrupted by the sound of a text alert on Alice's phone, who promptly picked it up to read her message. I felt my irritation level ratchet up a notch at the fact that she seemed more interested in her phone than in what I was telling them. Regardless, I carried on with my story at the part when I had been caught by the poor bloke whose room I had been nosing about in. At the mention that there was a man involved, Imogen's hazel eyes lit up.

"Oooh, you actually _met _the guy who was sleeping there?" she asked eagerly, scooting to the edge of her seat and leaning forward like a small child hanging on to their favourite fairytale. "Is he cute?"

I saw Alice roll her eyes at this and I had to fight the impulse to do the same. I only shrugged because I honestly didn't remember. But Imogen was waiting for my answer so all I said was,

"Sort of."

"Well, what did he look like?" asked Alice. Apparently she had been listening after all.

"I dunno, I wasn't really looking. I was too freaked out about the whole thing that I legged it!"

"Are you sure you didn't just dream it all?" said Imogen reasonably, voicing what I had been wondering myself.

"No - !" I started.

"I mean, let's face it..." she continued, interrupting me, "it sounds like your subconscious is trying to get you have a fantasy or two... After all, you said yourself you loved all that old-fashioned period stuff. Maybe next time you have the dream, you should just go with it and let it play out. Then you'll be rid of it."

Did I mention that Imogen once did a psychology course? How annoying was that? She now felt the need to psycho-analyse _everything. _So she thought I was experiencing some sort of repressed fantasy? I turned bemusedly to Alice.

"You live with this?"

"She was like this in the womb," Alice answered dryly, who I noticed looked faintly disgruntled ever since she had received her text.

"Look...I know it all sounds crazy and you probably think _I'm _crazy," I told the twins. "But I _know _what I saw, okay?" The two exchanged unconvinced expressions. "Fine. I'll prove it to you," I said without really thinking what I was saying. "Come over to my house tonight and I'll show you."

Imogen's face broke into a big smile.

"Ooooooh, a sleepover?" she asked, as though she hadn't heard of anything so exciting.

"Uh..."

I hadn't planned on having them stay the night. I mean, I liked the twins but... _all night? _

"Yeah, if you like."

"Yay!" Imogen clapped her hands enthusiastically, once again looking like a hyped-up child.

However, now I was feeling a little worried. Had I done the right thing by letting Alice and Imogen in on this secret? My mouth did tend to run away from me at times. What had I gotten myself into?

* * *

After work, the twins and I went back to their flat so that they could change and pick up some clothes. You would've thought that this would be a simple task. Not for Imogen, it wasn't.

I was waiting for them both out in the hall, when Alice came out with her sleeping bag and rucksack, realised her sibling wasn't with her and turned back to holler,

"Imogen, what the _hell _are you doing in there? We're only going to Rosie's for one night, not a freaking _month!" _

"Yeah, yeah, whatever – I'll be out in a bit!" I heard Imogen retort in the distance.

Alice sighed impatiently, exchanged exasperated looks with me and rolled her eyes. Still wrestling with my conscious on whether I should have shared the mystery of my door with the twins, I said quickly,

"Look, if it's too much hassle you guys coming over, I understand – "

"No, why not?" sighed Alice. "Just 'cause Jason doesn't seem to have time for me, doesn't mean I can't have fun with my friends..."

I frowned at her. There it was again, that note of bitterness at the mention of her fiancé. Something told me all was not quite so rosy in the world of Alice and Jason.

"Alice?" I said tentatively after a moment. "Tell me to mind my own business but...is everything alright with you and Jason?"

Alice hesitated, fiddling absent-mindedly with her glittering engagement ring before she answered me.

"It's just... it's just we never seem to spend any sort of quality time together... He's always working late – "

"Well...he's a doctor. Doctors are busy, aren't they?" I said reasonably.

"Yeah, but if I suggest we do anything together like going out for dinner or – or going to see a movie – even just a walk together, he always says he's either too busy or too tired. I texted him earlier to ask if he fancied going out later but no...he's working late..._again._"

She paused to have a little huff and I tried to think of something to say to reassure her. I had never met Jason so I couldn't judge him. Anyway, I wasn't exactly the right person to dish out advice on relationships seeing as I had never had a proper one and my own parents had made a complete hash of theirs.

"And another thing!" continued Alice suddenly, who seemed to be on a roll now she'd started. "He always finds time to be with his mates down the pub...and yet when _I _suggest we go to the pub, he's like – " She adopted a deep voice. " "Uh, I'm sorry, babe, I'm too knackered. Maybe some other time, yeah?" When we were dating, he was really romantic and stuff but now we're engaged, it's like he thinks he doesn't have to make such an effort anymore... Maybe he's regretted getting engaged to me - "

"Oh, I'm sure that's not true!" I said, shocked. "Have you talked to Jason about all this?" Though I could guess the answer and sure enough, Alice shook her head. "Well, why don't you? If you guys don't talk, how're you gonna sort it out? I'm sure if you tell him how you're feeling, he _will _make more effort..."

"Yeah, s'ppose so..." she grumbled. "Oh, at _last!" _she added when Imogen came bouncing into view, a bulging duffel bag over one shoulder, her sleeping bag in the other hand.

Her sister only grinned sheepishly at Alice's scowling expression as the three of us headed out to Alice's car, got in and drove out of the main town towards the countryside. Following my directions, Alice drove us all back my house, down the twisty-turny lane until we reached the lay-by.

"Wow, you really do live out in the sticks," commented Imogen as she got out of the car and gazed around at the old shed and rusty gate, clearly wondering like I did when Mum and I first arrived, where the house was.

I led the other two up the lane and into the house, only to be welcomed by the most delicious aroma wafting through from the kitchen. Sure enough, when we entered, we found my mum baking some of her amazing cupcakes.

"Hey, Mum!" I greeted her.

Mum glanced up briefly from piping some icing onto a fresh batch of cakes standing on a cooling rack.

"Oh, hiya, love! Good day? Oh, you've got company," she added with a smile when she spotted the twins.

"Yeah, you two, this is my mum, Clare... and Mum, this is Imogen and this is Alice – no, the other way round. Remember, I told you they worked at the zoo with me?"

"We're twins!" explained Imogen unnecessarily.

"I think Rosie's mum worked that out for herself, Im," muttered Alice.

My mother laughed and said, "Well, it's lovely to meet you two."

"I kind of invited them over for a sleepover," I told Mum. "You don't mind, do you?"

"No, 'course not!" Mum waved an airy hand before turning back to her handiwork. Imogen took a big sniff.

"Mmmm! Something smells good!" she said appreciatively.

They didn't just smell good, they _looked _amazing. With their swirly piles of icing and cute little sugar butterflies that Mum made herself, each one was like a little work of art. It seemed almost a shame to eat them, they were so pretty. I dipped a sneaky finger into a bowl of buttercream and stuck it in my mouth.

"Oi!" Mum rapped my knuckles playfully with a spatula. "That's not for you, cheeky! Play your cards right and bring you some cake up later to share."

"Cheers, Mum!" I grinned at her before the three of us headed upstairs to my room.

Whilst the twins were chatting and sorting through their belongings – Imogen looking like she had come to stay for an entire week – I dragged the wooden box containing the key out from under my bed. Once again, I found myself studying the key. I often wondered to myself if the key was magic. _No, that's ridiculous, _I thought, dismissing the idea immediately.

Imogen was now over by my bookcase going through my DVD collection whilst Alice was busy texting on her phone. It was a nice feeling, having the two of them there with me. I hadn't had many close friends back at our old home. All through my teenage life I could never really fit in because I was never the pubbing and clubbing type; I was more of the 'Stay-At-Home-and-Read-a-Book' kind of girl.

"How about watching this?" Imogen asked, holding up my copy of _Aladdin. _

"No!" said Alice immediately. "The princess in that drives me nuts, she's got the brain the size of a pea..."

"Or this?" her sister continued, holding up the second instalment of _Lord of the Rings. _

"I didn't bring you two over here to watch Gollum coughing and prancing about half naked," I told them.

"Why? I thought this was supposed to be a sleepover!" whined Imogen, her pretty face assuming a child-like petulance.

"I brought you here to show you this door!"

"Yeah, yeah, okay...the "magic door"," Alice said, holding her fingers up like quotation marks. "Come on then," she sighed. "Amaze us."

From her tone of voice, I could tell she still didn't believe me. Not that I could blame her. Both girls kept their eyes trained on me as I picked up the key and went over to face the door. Any second thoughts? After all, could I trust them to keep their mouths shut? I guess I was going to have to.

I inserted the key in the lock, twisted it and it gave out a loud click. I pulled the door open just a little, half afraid I _had _dreamed there were stairs there. But lo and behold, there they were! Smirking a little at the thought of how the twins were going to react, I pulled it open wider with a creak.

I heard Imogen let out a gasp.

"Holy crud muffins!" she cried, leaping up and coming over to stand next to me, her hazel eyes huge as she stared down the dark stairway. Alice approached the door much more slowly, her mouth hanging open, her eyes equally as wide.

"No bloody way," she whispered in disbelief. She turned her head to gawp at me. "You sure it doesn't just lead to the cellar?" she said in a hushed voice.

"We don't have a cellar," I said, "and hello?" I pointed at my window that was right next to the door. "That's the outside wall."

"Oh...right."

"That is beyond cool," said Imogen in an awed voice, her face now shining with glee. "I'm _so_ glad I believed you."

I only rolled my eyes at this because neither of them had believed me.

"Does your mum know about this?" Alice asked me. I shook my head quickly.

"No, I haven't told her."

"Are you going to?"

"Oh my god, and say what? _"Mummy, I found a man living behind my door, can I keep him please? Can I?" _"

Imogen let yet another gasp, though this time, it was out of excitement.

"Oh my god, yes! You said there was someone _living _down there, didn't you? Can we go and meet him?" she suddenly begged, tugging on my arm. "Can we go now? Please, please, please?"

But I shut the door and said firmly, "No."

"Aw, c'mon, Rosie! You had him all to yourself the other night – " she pouted, petulant child expression back in place.

"No, I didn't! I told you, I scarpered at the first chance I could!"

"But aren't you even a teensy-weensy bit curious to know who he is?" asked Imogen keenly.

"Yeah, come on, Rosie, what harm can it do?" piped up Alice. _Oh great, they're both ganging up on me now. _"Besides, _I'd _like to meet this mystery guy too." Before I could protest, Alice had stepped past me, pulled the door back open and had stepped onto the first stair. "Come on, Im!"

Imogen giggled excitedly and promptly followed after her.

"What are you _doing_?" I hissed at them frantically. "It might be dangerous!"

"Don't be such a killjoy, Rosie," I heard Alice say from out the darkness; she was too far down the stairway for me to see anymore.

As I listened to their footsteps begin to fade away, I had half a mind to just close the door and leave the twins to it. If they got into trouble, well...then it would be their own fault. But I couldn't do that. After all, _I _was the one who had shown them the door in the first place. Plus, Imogen had hit the nail on the head. If I was totally honest, I _was _curious to know who my new...um...neighbour was.

"Damn," I muttered.

I let out a growl of frustration, ventured over to my desk and pulled out a drawer. After some rooting around, I found my torch - there was no way I was going to go looking for those two in the dark – and I went through the door after them, suddenly wishing I had never opened my big fat mouth.

* * *

_Do you think it was good a idea of Rosie to tell the twins? I apologise for the lack of Nicholls in this chapter but he'll be in the next one! :D Reviews are electronic bundles of love so I'll really appreciate it if you threw them my way! Until next time, my darlings! Xx _


	5. Chapter 5

_Hi there, darlings! Thanks so much for all your feedback, you make me one very happy bunny. And thanks to all those who are following and have added to their favourites too! _

_**FlamePumpkin32:**__ I'm glad that you love the twins, they're great fun to write about. I won't make it a habit for them both to be going to the 'other room', just to let you know :) Thanks very much for reviewing, my dear! _

_**Faeriemaiden96: **__You'll definitely find out in due course if it was a good or bad decision :P Thanks so much for reading/reviewing! :) _

_**Guest: **__I'm so glad you liked the last chapter! Lol, yes poor Nicholls...especially girls who are as crazy as the twins XD Thanks so much for reading! _

_**HP2011: **__Oh, hello! I remember you reviewing my other story ^-^ Thank you so much for giving this a read even though you've never seen War Horse. It's actually a book, then it was adapted for a play and then it was made into a film. It's a great movie, I'd recommend it. I, for one, don't mind at all if you write overly long reviews :D I'm just so happy you're enjoying it so far! Don't worry about the rambling, I ramble all the time. Thank you so much for your lovely review, I really appreciate it, sweetie. Hope you keep reading :) _

_**FreakofNatureStuckInReality: **__Glad that the last chapter made you laugh! :D Even I didn't think it was a good idea of Rosie to tell them but it makes things more interesting that way, right? ;) And yes, I already know how much you love Benedict. Thank you muchly for your review, sweetie! _

_**x-The Devil's Advocate-x: **__Aww, thank you so much for that, that's really sweet of you! I sincerely hope my OCs don't turn into Mary Sues. If they start leaning that way, someone *please* tell me! Ugh, I just hate thunder especially when it wakes you up at night. That's really too bad about your friend's parents being divorced though. You are right to be suspicious about Jason. Lol, I like most of the Disney princesses but Jasmine is probs my least favourite :P I know, I'm evil like that, hehe. You don't know Benedict? Gah, watch him in Sherlock, he's just *amazing*. Aw no, I'm sure you don't have weird taste. Who do you like? Johnny Depp is my all time favourite actor. I'll be here all day if I named *all* my faves XD I don't mind that you ramble at all! I love your reviews, sweetie. _

_**Ren: **__Haha, I resisted the temptation of reading/watching anything about it. I was the same though; I was like 'Ooh, Tom in uniform. Luurvely!' Then I was like 'Wut? He's dead? Wut? NO!' I bawled like a baby. Same here, I saw him in Thor and then Avengers and fell instantly in love. Since then I've watched War Horse, The Deep Blue Sea and now The Hollow Crown. I agree, I don't just love Tom for his looks (gorgeous specimen of a man though he is!) He's just a wonderful, generous person and an incredible actor. Just when I think it's not possible to be any more in love with him, something pops up on my tumblr dash to prove me wrong! XD I really need to stop gushing now...Thank you very much for your review; you'll find out where they all end up in this chapter :) _

_**Sweets and Charades: **__Aww, that's very sweet of you to say so! Eee, happy to see other Cumberbatch fangirls here :) I most certainly will be including Major Stewart in the story. Being a fan of Benedict, it'd be wrong of me *not* to. Uh, I guess Rosie was too worried about whether she should've told the twins that she didn't stop to think about letting her mother know. I know, I wanted Wickham to go with her to her time too. Anywho, thanks so much for reading and reviewing, it means a lot to me! _

_**Guest: **__Aww, bless you for saying that. Oh my god, I'm even sounding like Hiddles now...gah! Aww, I'm sure you've got better things to do than read my little story. Gosh, you make me blush! *hugs you* Haha, my friend uses that phrase a lot so I thought I'd include it XD Yay, good to see another Benedict fan. I'm *addicted* to Sherlock, it's just...there are no words. I love it! I know what you mean about him in War Horse but i think I would've lost it completely if they killed our darling Benny as well. And are you physic or got access to my computer or something? XP I *am* planning to have him and Alice meet. I agree with everything that you said about War Horse. I laughed out loud at what you said about Tom reading car manuals! I don't mind that you go on and on. I really love your reviews! They really do bring a smile to my face :D _

_**Lulu: **__Aw no, you're not dumb! Better late than never! My thoughts exactly! There would be no story if everything went according to plan, right? ;) Glad that that line made you laugh! Yay, same here, I *adore* Sherlock. It was a hint, yes. Am I that obvious? :P Thank you for your review! _

_**Disneyylandacidtrip: **__Thank you very much! Happy you like it! Hope you enjoy this chapter! :) _

* * *

**Chapter Five **

_I am so stupid. Mrs Stupid of Stupid Town, Stupidville, that's me, _I thought irritably as I stomped down the dark stairs, torch held aloft, following the direction of the twins' excited whispers. Why did I ever think it had been a good idea to tell Imogen and Alice all of this? I guess I was just so determined to prove to them – and myself - that I wasn't stark raving mad and that I didn't have to give the men in white coats a call. My journey to the bottom of the stairway did not seem to take as long this time. I shone my torch around, trying to locate the twosome.

"Hey...guys!" I whispered into the darkness. "Where are you?" There was no answer. "Guys?" I asked worriedly.

"We're here!" hissed a voice right in my ear and I nearly jumped out of my skin. "What is it?" I aimed my torch upwards to see it was Alice and she flinched at the sudden brightness. "Blimey, Rosie...blind me, why don't you?" she grumbled.

"Sorry...Okay, I've proved to you there's a staircase behind the door. Now can we go back?" I whispered. "Where's Imogen?"

"I'm right here!" she piped up loudly. "Why are we whispering?"

Was she being deliberately stupid?

"Because we might be heard. Do you _want_ to be caught?"

"No..."

"Then _please _come on back!" I urged them.

But for all the use it was, I might just have well been talking to my torch. In the dim light, I could see Imogen studying our surroundings and her eyes lit upon the rack of garments.

"Wow, look at all these clothes!" she gushed, rushing over to the nearest jacket and holding up a sleeve. Then she reached up and took the hanger down to look at the jacket properly.

"Im, you always have to touch stuff, don't you?" Alice said. From her tone of voice, I could practically _hear _her rolling her eyes. "You can never just _look_, you have to _touch." _She, too, was gazing at all the various clothing in wonder but, unlike her sister, had the self control not to reach out and grab them. "So...all these belong to this guy who you met?" she asked me.

"I guess so, seeing as we're in his wardrobe," I murmured.

"Oh my lordy, he's a soldier!" Imogen gasped. "You didn't tell us _that_!"

I wondered for a moment how the heck she knew this certain fact but by the light of my torch, I could see that she had pulled down another outfit; a splendid-looking navy blue jacket with shiny silver buttons and brocade.

"I do love a man in uniform," she added with a wicked smile.

"You just love men full stop," pointed out Alice.

"True!" Imogen grinned, putting the jacket back in its rightful place.

"You two, _please _can we go back?" I begged them for what felt like the thousandth time. "My mum's gonna wonder where the heck we've gone..." But there was no answer. Again. Wait, where did they go? "Alice? Imogen?"

Then all of a sudden, I heard the creak of the wardrobe door open, flooding the inside with light and I had to blink furiously as the brightness assaulted my eyesight. My heart racing in panic, I waited with bated breath for someone to catch us all red-handed and braced myself for another frantic getaway...But when my eyes had focused properly, I only saw the twins. They had stepped out of the wardrobe and into the room beyond.

"What're you _doing_?" I hissed desperately.

"Rosie, there's no need to stress, there's nobody here anyway," Alice answered, waving me out.

She sounded a little disappointed. I, however, wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed about this fact. Sure enough, as I clicked off my torch and climbed tentatively out onto the floor, leaving the smell of mothballs behind, the room was completely deserted. The drapes of the four-poster had been neatly tied back and the bed was made up – and empty. The bedroom looked just the same as before except it was bathed in sunlight. The other two gazed around in awe, Imogen for once speechless. Nothing could be heard except for the distant chirping of birds from outside.

I froze on the spot, waiting to see if someone would arrive but they didn't. Eventually, Alice broke the silence.

"Are we really...like...have we really...gone back in time?" she murmured, awestruck. I shrugged a little.

"Certainly looks like it."

"Wow..." she breathed, her hazel eyes sparkling as they drank in everything in the room. She let out a low whistle of appreciation at how nicely decorated the bedroom was. "This is bizarre."

"The whole thing is bizarre," I agreed.

"Hey, where does this go?" Imogen asked suddenly, and Alice and I turned to see her making a beeline for the door on the other side of the room.

"Im – don't!" Alice scolded, but her twin had already pulled it open and was peering through it. From where I was standing, all I could see was some of the rail of a wooden banister.

"Oh my god, it's the rest of the house!" she gasped, waving us over. "Come on..."

"Come on what?" I asked worriedly as Alice cautiously went to join her sister's side.

"Let's go have a look," answered Imogen as though it were obvious.

"We can't just go nosing around in somebody else's house - !" I said indignantly.

"_You _did," pointed out Imogen with a teasing smile.

"But I only stayed in here," I argued. "I didn't go any further than that."

"Oh, come on, Rosie...how many chances are you gonna get to go back in time and explore a house, huh?"

Before I could object any further, Imogen had already scurried out onto the landing. I didn't _believe _her at times!

Alice shrugged and gave me a look as if to say, 'It can't hurt to just have a look'. I let out an irritated sigh and reluctantly followed them both, pocketing my torch and mentally berating myself once again that I ever got these two involved.

We found ourselves on a grand, high-ceilinged landing, wood-panelled walls stretching as far as the eye could see. I could see some other doors along the hallway, which I could only assume lead to other bedrooms. If you cared to look over the banister, it would have allowed you a wonderful view of the rest of the house. If the circumstances had been different, I would have liked to linger for a bit to appreciate the splendour of the house. But the twins were already making their way towards the stairs and I had no choice but to hurry after them. I was exceptionally grateful for the fact that I was wearing my Converse shoes and that there was an ornately-patterned carpet running along the length of the floor to muffle our footsteps. I kept shooting anxious glances around me as I went, thinking any moment someone was going to spring out and catch us all.

It was one of those half turn staircases which wended its way down to a spacious foyer. I could only assume this was the entranceway. Once there, the twins started up a whispered argument on which direction they wanted to go in. Alice wanted to go one way, Imogen another. _I _just wanted to go back upstairs and return to my room. After all, this wasn't a playground...it was someone's house!

"Well, I think _I _should have the deciding vote since I'm the eldest," Alice was saying in a bossy voice.

We're twins, you nut," Imogen countered. "We're the same age..."

"Yeah, but I was born twenty minutes before you, so technically _I'm _the eldest – "

"Here's an idea, let's go back," I intervened, even though I knew nobody was listening to me. I still kept looking around in paranoia and biting my lip; the lack of other people was thoroughly unnerving me.

Imogen's gaze fell upon a rack nearby filled with coats, umbrellas and hats. She immediately headed for it and plucked off something from it. Oh god, _why_ couldn't she just leave things alone? It was a hat – a deerstalker, in fact – and she placed it on her head and shot us a grin.

"Elementary, my dear Watson," she said, adopting an oh-so proper tone. I rolled my eyes.

"For your information, Sherlock Holmes never even said that, you know..." I informed her. Imogen frowned a little.

"Didn't he?"

"No," said Alice irritably. "And he never wore that ridiculous hat either."

"Will you _please _put it back?" I begged her in a whisper.

Imogen removed the hat with a little sigh but then all our attentions were distracted by the sound of voices drifting from a nearby room. I was halfway considering to quickly suggest to the twins that we made a run for it back upstairs before somebody discovered us, when just at that same moment, a bell rang at the door.

"Quick – over here!" I hissed at the twins and I all but dragged them behind the coat rack so that we were pressed against the wall behind it, shielded by the long coats hanging there. We were just in the nick of time, too; a middle-aged woman in a plain dress had appeared and was crossing the foyer to go and answer the door. I exchanged nervous looks with Alice and Imogen, who were both staring, wide-eyed, back at me but thankfully had the sense to stay silent.

The voices were coming from a room close by and sure enough, as I edged along the wall a little and dared to peep through a gap where the door was left ajar, I could glimpse a sliver of what appeared to be a lounge area. Two men were speaking – or arguing to be more precise – and being this close to the door, I was able to catch a little of what they were saying.

"Father, I'm telling you, I _know_ what I saw..." one was saying and my heart gave a little somersault as I recognised that voice. "She was there in my room – as real as you or I – "

" – And _I'm _telling _you,_" the other man barked at him, cutting him off, "that you must have been dreaming, boy!"

From my vantage point, I could just about see what was going on; I immediately recognised my mystery man who I had met before sitting in an armchair and my heartbeat sped up a little in anticipation. Annoyingly, my brief view of him was blocked by the other man in the room as he paused in his pacing. This guy was much older, judging by his balding, grey hair and bushy, whiskery moustache. He was dressed all in grey, too, and was rather on the rotund side. He reminded me rather of a seal.

Then something else struck me. They were talking about..._me... He was talking about me! _

I backed up a little at the sound of approaching footfalls as the visitor at the door was shown in. I couldn't see the visitor's face, though I saw a pair of very fine-looking boots stride past our hiding place and into the room.

"Ah, Stewart..." And by this, I presumed the older man had acknowledged the newcomer. "Perhaps _you_ can bring my son's head out of the clouds... Harping on about imaginary women in his room...I thought being in the army would buck his ideas up and stop all this daydreaming nonsense..."

I heard both his voice and footsteps fade away. Through the crack in the door, I saw the man referred to as 'Stewart' turn to address his friend.

"...Imaginary women?" he asked in amusement. "What is he talking about?"

"Pay him no mind, it is not important," the other man sighed, sounding a tad irritated. "Father is just being his usual cantankerous self..."

"Your mother's condition is not worse, is it?" 'Stewart' sounded concerned this time.

"No, no...she's much the same...What brings you here, anyhow, Jamie?" he added in a much lighter tone.

I heard the pair of them stroll slowly into the foyer together. As they were talking, I quickly made sure the twins and I were well-hidden behind the coat rack and carefully adjusted some of the garments so that our feet were obscured. I could see Imogen was sneaking a glance at the pair between the beautiful clothes. Alice nudged her and made the 'zip it' gesture across her mouth. Whatever the news was that his friend had brought, it had seemed to delight my mystery man immensely. There seemed to be a lot of hand-shaking, exclamations and congratulatory slaps on the back going on.

"That is such splendid news, my friend!" I heard him declare. "Many congratulations indeed!"

Masked by the noises of enthusiasm, Imogen breathed in my ear, "Holy crap, are _all _the men in this era such studs?"

I gave her a dig in the ribs with my elbow to make her shut up. I was far more worried about how the heck we were going to get back upstairs without being seen, not over how hot the men were.

"Come...join us at the _Duke of York _to celebrate..." the man who I knew now to be called Jamie was saying. "Charlie wagers he can drink the both of us under the table by noon."

His companion laughed. I could hear Imogen making strange little snuffling noises._ Now_ what was she doing? It sounded almost like she was about to... I turned my head to stare at her in horror. _Oh god, please no!_

"ACHOO!"

I grimaced. The sneeze seemed to echo slightly in the spacious entrance hall. The two men had ceased talking and their footsteps had faltered to a stop. Imogen's hand flew to her mouth, her hazel eyes wide with fear as she realised what she had just done.

My heart was pounding like a drum so loudly in my ears, I swore that the two men could hear it. I winced and both Alice and I stared at Imogen with a mixture of horror, fury and just plain fear. A horrible silence spiralled around the room...

_Please keep on walking..._I thought desperately. _Please... _

Then all of a sudden, an arm appeared to push aside the coats. Imogen gave out a little shriek of surprise as two pairs of startled eyes met ours. We'd been caught...

* * *

_Dun dun dun! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, darlings! As you've probably noticed, this is set some time before war was declared. I wanted Rosie and Nicholls to get to know one another before all that heartache. Speaking of which, there'll be some Rosie/Nicholls interaction in the next chapter ^-^ Please don't forget to review, you know how much I love them. Until next time, lovelies! Xx _


	6. Chapter 6

_Hello, darlings! I hope I find you all good and dandy. Thank you so much for your continued support, it means the world to me! :D _

_Black Rabbit Missile: Thank you so much! Very happy that you're enjoying my story so far! Hope you continue to do so :) _

_Fairiemaiden96: Haha, I'm very sorry but it keeps up the suspense, right? ;) And yes, yes, I will...here's the update! Thank you so much for reading/reviewing! _

_Disneyylandacidtrip: Lol, cliff hangers are frustrating, aren't they? But great fun to write! Thanks for your review, dear! _

_HP2011: Thank you very much. I really need to sort out my future chapters for that story. Oh, did you manage to find the book of War Horse? You'll be one up on me if you have, I still need to read it myself; I've only seen the film. Thank you very much for your review! I know what you mean, I would've been exactly the same way if I had been in Rosie's shoes. I hope you enjoy this chapter! :) _

_HoldOnToThisLullabye: First off...you have an account now? YAY! *is uncontrollably excited* Holy moly, you checked your computer six times? Aww, that's so sweet. I'm so happy the last chapter made you laugh! Your reviews brighten my day, sweetie, they really do. And to hear, I've inspired you write your own stories is an honour. I've already added you to my list of favourite authors. Good luck with your writing, I'm excited to read your fanfics and i'll be more than happy to review them :D Of course, how can anyone not love Loki? I wanted to write a Loki fic myself but found he's too complicated a character for me and I'd just write him OOC. I'll leave that to much more capable writers than me XP Thank you for your amazing review! _

_FreakOfNatureStuckInReality: I know, I know, I'm so evil! XD I hope I can make up for it with this longer chapter. Happy to hear you liked the interaction between the girls. Lol, I couldn't resist throwing in a Sherlock Holmes reference. Thank you so much for your review! _

_The Devil's Advocate: Don't worry about the long review, I'm just so grateful you're reading even though you haven't seen this film *hugs* Thank you so much! But I like I've said to you before, I don't want to be an author, writing is very much a hobby for me. Ooh, you should do an OC fic, I'm sure they won't be a Mary Sue. You're an amazing writer. Haha, I have to agree with you about Jasmine. I prefer the princesses who're more ballsy like Esmeralda or Mulan. More often than not, my favourite Disney characters are the villains or the sidekicks. Ooh, do watch Sherlock, you won't regret it! Johnny is amazing. I love From Hell! That, PotC and Edward Scissorhands are probs my fave roles of his. I'm so glad you enjoyed the last chapter. I hope you like this one too! _

_Guest: Aw, those stories make me sad as well. But it would be telling if I was going to kill him off or not ;) Thank you for your review! _

_Lulu: Thanks very much! I think if it was me, I would've strangled the twins by now. And wait no longer, dear, here's my next update. And as promised, there's some Rosie/Nicholls interaction for you XD _

_Ren: Hehe, it's typical isn't it? The one time you don't want to sneeze – you sneeze! Thank you so much, I'm glad you thought the chapter had tension. I'm happy you don't mind me gushing about the delightful Mr Hiddleston XD Ohmigosh, send him the fan mail, do iiiit! Hehe. I'd totally be the same; I wouldn't have a clue what to say without sounding like some mindless fangirl. I need to watch more of his films too! Have you seen Midnight in Paris? I really want to watch that. Thank you so much for your review, it means a lot! _

_Enough of my rambling...I hope you all enjoy this chapter! On with the show... _

* * *

**Chapter Six **

"_What_ is the meaning of this? I've every mind to summon the authorities here!"

Imogen, Alice and I were sitting side-by-side on a chaise sofa, hardly daring to look at one another. All of us were currently in the lounge, listening to the angry tirade of my mystery man's father as he paced around us, looking just about ready to spit fire. Jamie Stewart and my mystery man – whose name I _still _did not know – were standing to one side, looking on. Stewart, who was tall and lean, with closely-cropped brown hair which was neatly smoothed to one side and a neat moustache, appeared stoic about the whole thing and I couldn't fathom the expression on his friend's face as he listened to his father. From where I was sitting, I couldn't really see his features properly.

When they had discovered us hiding behind the coat rack, the twins had immediately erupted into a confusing outburst of explanations of how and why we came to be there. Attracted by the noisy commotion, the grumpy old guy from before had come to join the fun, and furiously ordered us all into the lounge to question us why three strange girls had randomly turned up in his house.

I kept my eyes on the toes of my Converse like they were most fascinating things in the world, as though hoping they would lend us some words of comfort. I felt a spasm of fear course through my being at the mention of the word 'authorities'. He wouldn't actually have us _arrested, _would he? My mother was going to do her nut – which she most probably was already doing, wondering where the heck the three of us had disappeared to. My stomach squirmed with guilt. I felt terrible for ever telling the twins about the door in the first place. If I hadn't said anything, we wouldn't be in this predicament right now. I should have just grabbed the pair and pulled them back to my room. I had no further opportunity to mentally beat myself up as the older man continued.

"...Trespassing...breaking and entering...dressed.._inappropriately – _"

He threw disgusted looks at all our outfits. He did have a point, though. Imogen and I were both wearing skinny jeans and Alice was wearing a tank top and black leggings.

" – and stealing!" he added angrily when he spotted that stupid deerstalker which was still clutched in Imogen's hand. _Why _couldn't she have just left it alone? Imogen did have the grace to blush as she stared at her lap and wordlessly held out the hat for him to take, not meeting the enraged man's eyes.

"Thank you," he said coldly, not sounding at all thankful as he snatched the hat from her. "Is there anything else that you wish to return to me that is not rightfully yours?"

"Hey, we didn't _steal _anything! We're not thieves, you know," piped up Alice angrily, sounding furious at the implication.

"I think we'll have the police be the judge of that!" he barked at her.

Imogen flinched and shrank back in her seat whilst Alice only glared at the older man defiantly. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my mystery man kept sending curious but discreet glances in my direction. Though when I chanced a glance back at him, he averted his gaze as though he didn't want to be caught staring at me. Instead, he addressed his father.

"Father," he interjected carefully. "I really don't think it's necessary to involve the police."

His father stared at him incredulously and he seemed to swell up like a balloon in his indignation.

"'Not necessary'?" he spluttered. "Three strangers wandering around our house uninvited – they are trespassing! They could be anybody. They might be German spies for all we know!"

I frowned in confusion. _German spies? Is he being serious? What is he talking about? _

"What about _you_?" the man suddenly demanded of me, making me start and violently pulling me out of my thoughts. I looked up into his glaring face, his blue eyes like two chips of ice. "Are you the ringleader of this rabble?"

"Father!" his son hissed at him reproachfully for his rudeness but he was ignored.

_Rabble? Who does he think he is? _

"I- I - " I stammered.

"She's the boss of the gang. We always work in threes," said Alice cheekily before I could answer him.

At his outraged expression, this would only confirm that we were criminals – which we _weren't! _

"She's joking," I said hastily, shooting Alice a furious look. Honestly, I could've killed her! Was she _trying _to make things worse? "We're not spies, I promise you!"

The man snorted in disbelief. "And _you _still think it's not necessary to send for the police, do you?" he sneered at his son, who answered patiently,

"I just thought it would be fairer to hear what the young ladies have to say for themselves first."

"You are too soft, boy, that's your trouble. First sign of a few pretty faces..."

He trailed off, still continuing to pace and then blew out a great puff of air in a sigh, making his whiskery moustache blow hither and thither, clearly thinking things over. At long last, he came to a halt.

"Very well..." he grumbled eventually. "We'll interrogate them ourselves. But _separately,_" he added. "We'll see if their stories tally up. If I find they are lying, I _will _send for the police. James, you see what you can get out of her," he nodded at me. "Stewart – you can help me with these two." He indicated Imogen and Alice.

Stewart looked as though he was going to refuse to do any such thing but he held his tongue. Perhaps he held too much respect for the older man and didn't like to contradict him in his own home. However, he still looked very put-out about this arrangement, like he wished he was anywhere _but _here. I suspected he was annoyed that his plans to go drinking at the pub had been scuppered due to our arrival. Imogen, on the other hand, on learning she was going to be talking with Jamie Stewart, looked positively ecstatic. I did notice she had been looking at him with a _lot _of interest since we were brought in here. The way she was looking at him now, I thought she was about to pounce on him. _Mr. Stewart, you have my wholehearted sympathy. _

My mystery man – James, did his father say his name was? – didn't seem particularly bothered about this plan at all, and I briefly wondered if he had somehow planned it that way, for him to speak to me and me alone, uninterrupted. Then I immediately pushed that idea aside.

"We can go in here in the study," he said, heading towards a door in the corner. I gazed uncertainly at the older man, who gave me an impatient look as if to say 'Go on, then'. I quickly rose from the chaise, skirted round it and followed his son to the study, who was waiting for me by the open door. I felt so bad for leaving the twins at the mercy of that grizzly old guy's wrath but at the same time, I was very glad to be away from him.

"After you," my mystery man said pleasantly, holding out a hand, allowing me go first. I darted past him and into the study, avoiding his gaze.

Once inside, my eyes swept the room before me to see it was a gentleman's study. It was smaller than the lounge; more wood-panelled walls, a large desk, behind which stood a huge set of shelves simply crammed with leather-bound books. Yet another chaise sat in a corner, no doubt for lounging upon to enjoy said books. A carriage clock was ticking quietly on a sideboard and a large oil painting of a horse hung upon the wall over an empty fireplace. Two leather chairs sat opposite one another in front of the fireplace. There was also a crimson plush rug beneath my feet to add to the cosy atmosphere. It was a very beautiful room, one I could quite happily have spent hours in, devouring one book after another. But unfortunately, I couldn't.

I heard the door of the study close behind us and I turned to gaze – at last - upon my mystery man and I was able to see his face properly for the very first time. I thought I had lost the ability to breathe as I felt the air leave my lungs. I suddenly had a moment like Julie Andrews in that film _Thoroughly Modern Millie, _when she clapped eyes on John Gavin's character for the first time. I could practically hear the _Hallelujah _chorus echoing in my mind right now.

He was tall and lean – even taller than I was - with chiselled features, his golden-brown hair in a similar neat style to that of his friend, Jamie's. He looked around in his late twenties, thirty perhaps, and was dressed in a dark grey suit which fitted his elegant frame perfectly. But that wasn't what captivated me...He had the most exquisite, piercing eyes I ever seen - blue like his father's but unlike his father, they possessed a great warmth in them. Although his demeanour seemed serious, it did not conceal the kindly, genial twinkle ever-present there. Oh god...why did he have to be so handsome? Why, oh why? _Okay,_ _pick your jaw up off the floor and focus, Monaghan, focus! _I heard a voice in my head shout.

"Please, Miss, there's no need to look so frightened," I heard him say, and I blinked a few times rapidly. He seemed to have mistaken my ogling for fear. "Please do sit down," he said politely.

I heeded what he said, feeling a bit flustered; I must've looked a real idiot, me just gawping stupidly at him as if I had never seen a man before. I stumbled over to one of the leather chairs, wondering why my legs suddenly didn't seem to want to function and plonked myself down. I looked back at him to see he was watching me but again, I couldn't read his expression. After a slightly awkward silence, he spoke.

"I was starting to think that you were a figment of my imagination. At least, that's what my father would have me believe...and yet I _know _what I saw... It _was _you that I saw in my room the other night, wasn't it?"

He wasn't being accusatory. It was as though he wanted to reassure himself – as I had – that he wasn't going mad. I sighed and nodded.

"Yes, it was...I'm _so _sorry about that... But you have to believe me when I say me and my friends don't mean any harm...we're not burglars and we're _certainly_ not German spies. A, I'm not German and B, if I was a spy, I would've made a better job of it than I had already – "

He sat down in the chair opposite me, hitching up his trousers a little as he did so. Once he was sat, he held out a hand to cut off my rambling.

"Alright, I think we've established the fact that you are not a burglar or a spy," he said. "You have nothing to fear, I promise you..." He was looking me up and down appraisingly. "Well, if you weren't out to rob us...why _were _you in our house?" he asked.

I didn't answer. I mean, what was I supposed to say? _'Because my friends are idiots?'_ When I failed to oblige him with an answer, he continued,

"Then perhaps you could tell me who you are? What is your name, for instance?" he prompted.

Unlike his father, he didn't bark the questions at me. In fact, he spoke very softly and gently...like I was a terrified horse he was trying to pacify.

"It's Rosie," I told him, feeling I should at least be honest with him. "Rosie Monaghan. Well...my full name's actually Rosemary but I think that sounds so grandma-y, so I insist everyone calls me Rosie..."

I was rambling again but it was only because I was nervous; nervous at what was to become of me and the twins...nervous at the fact that I was alone in the company of a ridiculously good-looking man with big, blue puppy-dog eyes. I saw the corners of his mouth quirk into a little smile at my words.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Monaghan...even if our first meeting was rather..." He searched for the right word. "...unorthodox."

"You don't say," I said with a small laugh.

"And how is it - ?"

"What's your name?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

"Oh, I'm so sorry..." He let out a little embarrassed laugh. "Where are my manners? My name is Nicholls - James Nicholls. Captain James Nicholls," he added. "Though _I _insist everyone calls me Jim."

_Ooh, so not just a soldier, but a captain to boot, _I thought. I smiled; his name suited him.

"And it's nice to meet you as well, Captain Nicholls," I told him quietly, genuinely pleased to last put a name to the face. _And oh, what a lovely face it is, too. Ugh, stop it! _I mentally screamed at myself.

"So...just how _are _you able to enter our home from the back of my wardrobe?" Nicholls asked me, interrupting my inner monologue.

"Through a door," I answered shortly, knowing full well that that wasn't exactly being helpful but he only gave me a patient smile.

"Could you...be a little more specific, perhaps?"

I hesitated. Would it be safe to tell him about the door? Telling the twins the truth about my door did not seem to be doing me much good so far. But then how else could I explain how I came to be in his room? I let out a heavy, laboured sigh.

"Just over a month or so ago, my mum and I moved to our new house," I began to explain, gesturing as I talked. "Well, when I say 'new', it's actually Victorian. In the bedroom I chose for myself, I found a door set into the wall but it was locked. Now, the thing is, this door is at the end of the house – it's just air behind it, there should've been nothing there at all... To cut a long story short, I bought the key to the door, opened it and I found a staircase behind it. Curiosity got the better of me, so I went down the stairs and ended up in your wardrobe and in your room."

I looked over at Captain Nicholls to see he was simply staring at me. He was shocked, I could tell, though he hid it most admirably, I had to say. His eyebrows had pulled together in a slight frown as he scrutinised me with those endless sky-blue eyes. I felt rather like I was being x-rayed. Eventually, all he said was,

"I see..."

"I'm not lying," I told him, desperate for him to see that.

"I don't doubt your honesty, Miss Monaghan," he assured me, which filled me with relief. "It's just...it's rather a lot for me to take in."

_You and me both, _I thought dryly.

"And why did you come back accompanied with your friends?" he enquired after a while.

"Believe me, I didn't plan to," I said in slight irritation. "I told the twins 'cause keeping something like that to myself was driving me mad and I wanted to prove to them I wasn't going bonkers. Then they wanted to go and see your room as well...I said no...but they wanted to go anyway...and so on. But then Imogen – that's my friend - decided to be an idiot and went to go and look at the rest of the house. _Only to look," _I added in emphasis. "Not to steal anything... But that's only half of it..." I went on before he could say anything more.

"You mean there's more?" Nicholls asked me, raising his eyebrows.

I bit my lip. How much more did I dare tell him? I always found it such a corny thing to say when people said, "_You wouldn't believe me if I told you." _ However, I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"If I tell you _this_, you won't believe me."

"I have believed everything you have told me thus far, Miss Monaghan, when most wouldn't," Captain Nicholls reasoned. "Why don't you try me?" he added, an almost playful yet challenging expression on his face, which made my heart speed up a little. I was highly surprised that he _did_ believe me. Or was he just saying that? But there was something that had been bugging me that I _really _needed to know...

"Okay, but can I ask _you_ something first?" I asked him.

"By all means..."

I tried to choose my words very carefully; I didn't want to freak this poor guy out even more than I probably had already.

"Can you...uh...tell me what date it is?" I settled on asking. If he found my question strangely random, it didn't show.

"It's the fourteenth, I believe..." he said, obviously not seeing where I was going with this.

"Of?" I pressed.

"March – "

"And...the year?"

"I beg your pardon?"

_Great, now he probably thinks I'm an utter loony_. But I _had _to know!

"Can you_ please_ tell me what year it is?" I beseeched him desperately.

"Miss Monaghan, are you feeling quite well?" he asked, his eyebrows knitting with concern as he could see I was getting more and more stressed.

"Honestly? I really don't know," I confessed. "Could you please just tell me?"

"It's the year 1914..." he said slowly, uncertainly. I stared at him in shock for a few seconds.

"Oh my god..." I muttered, leaning forward and holding my head in my hands.

I know that I had my suspicions about being in another time period. But that was all they were – suspicions. Somehow having it confirmed from the horse's mouth just like that was very overwhelming, much more overwhelming than I could ever anticipate. I heard the creak of the chair as Captain Nicholls rose from his seat.

"Are you alright, Miss Monaghan?"

I didn't answer, I only shook my head, staring at my lap unseeingly. I didn't know how I felt, to be honest. I heard him move away to the other side of the room, followed shortly by the chinking sound of glass on glass and then the glug-glug sound of some sort of liquid being poured out. A moment later, a slender, long-fingered hand appeared in front of me holding a glass of something. I raised my head to look at him.

"What's that?" I asked quietly.

"It's brandy," he answered, his tone equally as quiet.

"Trying to get me drunk?" I asked him teasingly, attempting a weak, wry smile to let him know I was joking. He laughed softly, returning the smile.

"It's to help settle your nerves," he explained patiently.

"Oh. Thank you..."

I accepted the glass, though I gave it a dubious look. I enjoyed the occasional glass of wine or beer but I was hardly what you would call an excessive drinker and I _certainly_ had never tried brandy before. I sniffed at it; it didn't smell all that nice but I took a tentative sip. I coughed. Ugh, this stuff was _vile! _Why would anyone in their right mind drink it?

"I'm sorry, it is an acquired taste," Captain Nicholls spoke apologetically. He waited for my coughing to subside. "Miss Monaghan, what is it that distressed you so?" he asked softly.

"You really want to know?" When he nodded, I took a deep, steadying breath. _"You_ might want this brandy after I've told you..."

"You're stalling, Miss Monaghan," he pointed out shrewdly, a small amused smile appearing on his lips briefly before falling into seriousness again. "Surely, it's not that bad?"

"Okay, here goes..." I looked at him full in the face, letting him know that I wasn't lying. "I'm not from 1914. I'm...from the year 2012 – about a hundred years in your future..."

* * *

_And there I go again with my cliffies...I'm sorry. Hope you liked this chapter and please don't forget to review, I really appreciate it. Until next time, my pretties! Xx _


	7. Chapter 7

_Hello darlings! Thanks for your lovely comments on the last chapter, I seriously love you all! And it's lovely to see some new readers too *dances like a loon* This is my longest chapter yet so I'm sorry if it's crappy and long-winded. I just thought splitting it into two chapters would disrupt the flow of it. _

_Guest: Oh, my dear, I know I keep on saying it but I love and appreciate your feedback, it does mean a lot to me. I'm glad you think I'm developing this at the right pace. I hoped that I wasn't rushing things or dragging it out too much. Thanks for saying you think I've got him in character because I'll happily admit that I suck at characterisation. Hehe, you'll sort of find out how the Major and the twins got on in this chapter ;) I'm very excited to read your stories. I'm loving the sound of them already! I'm sure they'll be wonderful :D It's so nice to interact with other Loki fans; while my best friend and I are united in being Cumberbitches, she really doesn't understand my fascination for Tom/Loki at all! Shame on her :P Once again, thanks so much for your review and continued support, darling. I do appreciate it. Lots of Loki love from me! _

_HP2011: And alas, same here. I still haven't managed to get to a bookstore either. Have you managed to since? Thank you so much, I'm so happy you enjoyed the last chapter anyhow. Captain Nicholls is such a lovely guy. I've no idea what sort of family life he had as like I say, I've never read the book. I just thought it'd be fun to have his father to be his total opposite ;) Haha, the poor man's definitely going to be shocked as you'll see in this chapter. Thanks so much for reading/reviewing! _

_Faeriemaiden96: Yay, Nicholls has indeed arrived! ;D I know...sorry about that! No cliffies in this one, I promise you. Thanks so much for reviewing, dearie! _

_Immysaurus: Hello, new reader! Aww, thanks so much for saying that about my other story. I'm just so sad and gutted I lost my chapters for it :'( Thank you for reading this though. It was my pleasure to leave a review on your story – I love that pairing and it was extremely hot! ;) Thanks very much for those kind words, you have no idea how much it means to me. People like you make this even more of a pleasure to write. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Oh, by the way, I love your avatar! _

_FreakOfNatureStuckInReality: Gah, I know I'm sorry. I won't do it in this chapter, you are safe ;P I'm glad you liked the previous chapter. Haha, I know, he couldn't be any more different to James, could he? Yes, I did do that on purpose. You'll find out about the twins in this chapter. Thank you for your review! :3 _

_The Devil's Advocate: Aw, that's so sweet of you! D'aww shucks, you make me blush. I suppose you could just see this as an original fic as this is set before the events of War Horse. I'm not sure if I could ever despise writing, I just don't think I could imagine making a career out of it. My favourite Disney heroines are Esmeralda, Mulan and Rapunzel. And though I'm not sure if she counts as a heroine but I love Tinkerbell as well. Oh, definitely! Villains are far more complex and interesting. Edward Scissorhands is really good – sad though. Thanks for saying you think I can capture the reader's attention. Haha, glad you found that line funny and that you like the dear Captain so far. Thank you for reading, my dear! _

_PEleni527: Aww, thank you so much! Happy you like it so far. Here's the update! :D PS – I love your avatar! _

_Cat: Thank you so much, love! Ooh, early days for the 'dating' stage but they are definitely going to make friends with one another first. Thanks for reading! _

_ToxicSoap04: Thank you very much, my dear! :D I'm very happy you think it's well written and you like the concept. Haha, I've always loved the idea of a secret door/wardrobe and never been able to use it for something – until now. It's just my little nod to some of my favourite fandoms really. Thanks so much for reading/reviewing. I hope you like this chapter! _

_Lulu: No, no, thank *you* for reading my story! Aww, I am happy to know that my story was able to make your day brighter. I was only saying to someone the other day when people tell me I've made their day, it totally makes my day as well. Oh yes...plenty of conversations between Rosie and James to come, I can assure you :D Wait no longer, here it is! _

_ZabuzasGirl: *salutes* Here is the update for you! Thanks for reading! _

_And now that I've bored you all stupid, here is the next chapter! _

* * *

**Chapter Seven **

I wasn't entirely sure how long I sat there as I waited anxiously for Captain Nicholls to react in some way. It could've been a couple of minutes but it felt like a couple of centuries. A horribly long silence followed my pronouncement and he was staring at me as though I had just involuntarily grown a second head. Eventually he snapped out of his trance, swallowed and said tonelessly,

"Say that again."

I glanced up to look into his blue eyes. "I'm from...the year 2012?" I said apprehensively as though scared he was about to shout at me.

He did nothing of the sort, however. He sat back in the chair opposite me, almost as though his long legs could no longer support him, looking entirely stunned and shaken and at a loss for words. At least for the moment...

"Is this some sort of joke?"

I let out a short humourless laugh. "I wish it was," I answered.

Abruptly, he rose to his feet again and began to wordlessly pace up and down the study much in the same manner as his father did. I supposed that this was his way of dealing with stress. This went on for several minutes and I was just beginning to wonder if I should say something, when he spoke.

"That isn't...that's not..." He struggled to find the words. "That's not possible," he eventually managed to say, coming to a halt.

"You don't need to tell _me _that," I said. "I know it's impossible...and yet here we are."

Captain Nicholls was once again giving me the impression I was being x-rayed as he searched my face. For what felt like a long time, the pair of us simply stared at one another as though in disbelief of the other's existence. The silence was only broken by the sound of raised voices coming from the lounge. I couldn't tell whose voice it was nor could I catch what it was they were saying. The tone was unmistakeably angry, however, and I wondered who it was receiving the tongue-lashing. Not liking this awkward silence, I sighed and rose from the chair to stand in front of him.

"Look," I continued. "I don't understand this any more than you do but think about it...I look different - I dress differently, I talk differently. I can tell you how the modern world looks...how technology has evolved, like cameras, radios, TVs...I could even tell you that men have been and walked on the moon... " Seeing his wide-eyed look of surprise, I added, "I know. It sounds_ utterly_ crazy..."

A sudden idea sprang to mind and I dug around the pockets of my jeans. As luck would have it, there were a few pennies in there, left-over change from my last shopping trip. I pulled one of the copper coins out and studied it to check the year on it. _1997, _it read. Perfect!

"Look at the date on that," I told him and I handed it to him so he could see for himself. He held up the small coin so that it caught the light and he was able to read the year there. I saw his big blue eyes widen even more, if that was possible.

"And you'll notice it's got the Queen's head on it," I pointed out. When he stared at me, I added, "Queen Elizabeth II...she's been reigning for sixty years now. It was her Diamond Jubilee a couple of weeks back in fact."

"I...I think...I think I _will_ have that drink after all," he murmured and I quickly handed him the glass of brandy he had given to me earlier. I watched with surprise as he knocked back the entire glass of the strong liquor in one swallow. He obviously could handle his alcohol consumption much better than I could.

"This door of yours, Miss Monaghan...could you tell me more about it?" Nicholls requested and I was relieved to hear his voice sounded quite steady and he was remaining civil toward me despite what I just told him. I was half expecting him to kick me out the door at a moment's notice but I was highly grateful that he wasn't and that he was at least hearing me out.

"Well, it was like I said...it was locked and I looked all over the house to see if there was a key to fit it but there wasn't."

"So how did you come by this key?" he enquired.

"On the internet," I said and I was rewarded with a confused frown and an "On the what, sorry?"

I sighed. "My twenty-first century world is going to take an awful lot of explaining...I bought the key from someone..." I hesitated for a moment, biting my lip, to consider something. "Does the name Paris mean anything to you?" I asked Captain Nicholls, watching his expression carefully for any signs of recognition.

"Paris?" A faint crease formed between his eyebrows as he quickly thought about it but he only looked blank. "I don't believe so," he said, shaking his head. "Is it important?"

"It's just the guy who I bought the key from, his name was Michael Paris and I dunno...he seemed a bit...odd."

"In what way did he seem odd?"

I shrugged and said, "I'm not sure...just something about him, he seemed a little off, that's all. I can't explain it..."

"Well, no...I don't know anyone by the name of Paris, I'm afraid," said Nicholls. "So, the key that you purchased...what does it look like?" Again, he wasn't interrogating me, he sounded like he was genuinely intrigued to know.

"It's about so big – " I held my hands apart a few inches. " and really fancy-looking. Oh, and with a horse's head on it. There was some Latin on the door handle and on the box it came in. I don't quite remember what it said now...something about courage and courtesy..."

I looked back over at Captain Nicholls to see he was now leaning slightly against the study desk and pinching the bridge of his nose as though to quell a headache and I really couldn't blame the poor guy. Perhaps I shouldn't have opened my big mouth and told him about me coming from the future. Still, there was no use in me 'if only-ing' now.

"Please," I beseeched him. "Surely you can see I'm not making this up? Why would I? If you want further proof that what I'm saying is true, I can show you..."

He took his hand away from his face but remained leant against the desk. He stared down at the penny I had given to him, turning it over and over between his slender fingers, apparently deep in thought. Once again, he was silent for a long time.

"It's far too elaborate a tale for you to have just come up with spontaneously," he muttered eventually, almost to himself; it was like he had reached some sort of conclusion and I felt my heart lift in hope.

"I – what? You...you believe me?" I asked in surprise.

"Against my better judgement...yes, I do."

_Captain James Nicholls, I could kiss you! _I felt like shouting at that moment but I didn't, of course. I was so relieved and so grateful that I couldn't speak for a moment.

"What about your dad though?" I asked him worriedly. "He seems pretty set on having us all thrown into prison. I know we shouldn't have been creeping around your house – and again, I'm _really_ sorry - but it wasn't like we damaged anything. And besides, my mother's gonna be going out of her mind wondering where I am."

I saw his expression soften at this.

"Of course, I understand that," he said. After a moment's pause, he added, "Leave my father to me. I won't have you arrested if I can help it." He pushed himself away from the desk and started for the door.

"Thank you," I managed to blurt out before he left the room. He paused to look back at me.

"Don't thank me yet," he said with a wry smile. "I haven't persuaded him yet..."

He closed the door behind him but he had only been gone a few seconds when the door reopened and Imogen and Alice walked into the study. As soon as the door was closed again, I asked urgently, "Are you guys okay? How did you get on?"

"He is absolutely gorgeous," sighed Imogen abruptly, a starry-eyed expression on her face as she flopped herself into one of the leather chairs. "We're talking double chocolate chip with real chocolate sauce here...That voice and his eyes...and those cheekbones – gah!"

I stared at her as she flailed and giggled, feeling a little confuzzled.

"Please tell me you're talking about that Stewart," I said.

The starry-eyed look disappeared from Imogen's face and switched to one of sarcasm.

"No, I'm talking about the grumpy old guy, aren't I?" she said dryly. "Of _course _I mean Stewart. _Major _Stewart," she added proudly.

"Major?"

"Uh-huh. Newly promoted," she nodded with a grin. "That's why he came round – to tell his mate the news..."

Ah. And probably another reason why he had looked so put-out; he was most likely cocker hoops about his promotion but his plans for celebration had been scuppered and it was taking second fiddle to our impromptu arrival. I always had this mental image that army majors were big, old beefy men with walrus moustaches, a monocle and a great booming voice which could shatter glass. But then what the hell did I know?

"Well, what did you tell them?" I started to ask but Imogen was too busy gushing about her newfound crush and not listening to a word I was saying.

"His voice...it's like a jaguar hiding in a cello... It's so _deep_..."

"So is Darth Vader's," I heard Alice mutter sarcastically under her breath.

"The moustache is a bit distracting, mind you – "

"Yes, but – " I tried to speak again but still she prattled on.

"I wonder what it's like to kiss a man with a moustache...Do you think it tickles?"

"Imogen!"

"I wonder if he's married...?" she continued in a dreamy voice.

I rolled my eyes. I was getting nowhere fast here, so I turned to her sister, who was idly studying her polished fingernails.

"Alice?"

"Well, I thought he was a stuffy, patronising git and I hope I never set eyes on him again," she said quite calmly, not taking her eyes off her nails.

"Who are _you _talking about?"

"Major Up-Himself Stewart."

This immediately broke Imogen out of her dreamy reverie and she turned to glare at her sister.

"He was _not _up himself and he wasn't a patronising git," she said indignantly. "_She _did nothing but argue with him the whole time," she added to me. "She's only jealous 'cause he took more interest in me than of her..."

"Oh, in your dreams, Im," Alice sneered at her, looking derisive though I had noticed her cheeks had gone a little on the pink side at Imogen's words.

Trying to spare Alice any embarrassment and because Imogen was driving me mad carrying on about the Major, I pulled the subject back to where I started.

"So what did you two tell them about us?"

Imogen started to speak but Alice beat her to it. "We told them that we were in your room which had a door which lead to the back of What's-His-Face's wardrobe – " She gestured vaguely in the direction of the lounge.

"Captain Nicholls," I corrected.

"Yeah, him."

"But they didn't believe you?" I guessed, my heart sinking at the very thought.

" 'Course not. I mean, let's face it, Rosie, it sounds really farfetched when you say it like that...Then that old bugger started wittering on again about us being thieves, bla, bla, bla..." She rolled her eyes. "How did you get on with Captain Sexy, anyway?"

"I told him the same...and I told him we were from 2012."

Alice gawped at me. "You actually told him that? And I thought Imogen was the only stupid one here? What did he say?"

"He was shocked but he _said _he believed me...But I really don't know...He said he was gonna try persuade his dad to not have us arrested."

But going by what Alice had just told me, this didn't sound very likely. My head was buzzing with turbulent thoughts. What was going to happen to us if they didn't let us go back? I quickly thought about sending Mum a text but I realised that I left my mobile phone back in my room and I wouldn't have got a signal anyway. Damn it! I let out a heavy sigh as I strolled absent-mindedly over to the window and looked out to see a gorgeous view of rolling green fields with a few horses grazing in the middle distance.

"Where do you think we are anyway?" I asked, not directing the question at anyone in particular.

"I was wondering that myself," replied Alice. "And I reckon we're still in Devon or Somerset, maybe...or at least in that neck of the woods."

"How'd you work that one out?" I asked her.

"Im and I have lived in Devon our whole lives, I know Devon countryside when I see it," said Alice. "And that Major bloke mentioned about the _Duke of York." _

"It's a pub, isn't it?" I said, turning back round to face her.

"Yeah...and there's a pub called the _Duke of York _not far from mine and Im's flat..."

"There're probably loads of pubs around with that same name," I pointed out.

"Well, have you got a better explanation?" Alice asked, raising her eyebrows. I sighed.

"No...I guess not..."

After a moment of quiet, Alice asked in a despairing voice, "Oh, Rosie, what's gonna happen to us?"

I looked around at her and saw she was nearly close to tears. I felt another wave of guilt wash over me. If we ended up in jail, no one from back home was ever going to know what had happened to us. My overactive imagination running wild, I had a fleeting vision where we had all been claimed as missing and there would be police searches with sniffer dogs and all sorts. God, that would _kill _Mum. And what about the twins' family? And Alice's fiancé, Jason? I know she said they had a few problems but she still loved him, and if she suddenly vanished without a trace, he would be worried sick...

Somehow or other, we were going to have to convince them to let us go home. But what if Captain Nicholls didn't believe what I had told him? I couldn't blame him if he hadn't...but he had _said _he had. But then maybe he had just been humouring me. For all I knew, right at this moment, he might already be making arrangements for the asylum to come and pick us all up. At this thought, I ventured over to the study door.

"What're you doing?" asked Imogen.

"I'm just gonna listen to what they're saying," I whispered, opening the door just a fraction. "If we're being spoken about, I at least want to know what it is they're saying and what they're going to do with us."

I held the door slightly ajar, enough to let the voices of the three men to permeate the study, though I couldn't see any of them from this angle.

" - Jim, you can't possibly believe what they said?" I heard Major Stewart say, and I could see what Imogen meant; he had such a deep, rich voice. "The young woman is clearly spinning us a line..."

"What could she possibly gain by lying about something like that?" Nicholls replied.

There was a slight pause as though his friend was trying to think of a reason why I would lie and couldn't find one.

"I don't know..." he gruffly confessed at last.

"Well, if she's not lying, then obviously she is mad," said the oh-so charming – note my sarcasm here - Nicholls Senior.

"She seemed of sound mind to me," answered Captain Nicholls, unperturbed.

"Ah, that's the thing...the ones who _seem _harmless are the ones you have to watch out for!"

"You did not see the look on her face when she learned where she was – _when _she was. She was very distressed..."

"Oh-ho, and I suppose you wanted to act like the hero, didn't you?" said his father sardonically. "Come to the aid of a damsel in distress...You are too soft."

I frowned and shook my head slightly at the way this man spoke to his son. Seriously, _what_ was his problem?

"I could tell Miss Monaghan was being sincere. I am least willing to give them all the benefit of the doubt," Nicholls answered as calmly as he could.

I felt another great surge of gratitude towards the Captain that he was fighting our corner like this, especially when we were practically strangers and didn't know us from Eve. I could hear his father grumbling something incoherent.

"Too soft..." I then distinctly heard him mutter again. "Well, on your own head be it! But don't come crying to _me_ when you turn round and find that she's picked your pockets!"

"He _still _bloody thinks we're thieves," I heard Alice whisper angrily from behind me.

Just then, I heard footsteps, so I quickly shut the door and hurried over to sit on a chair as though I had been there the whole time. Two seconds later, the study door opened and Captain Nicholls allowed us to come back into the lounge. Major Stewart still remained here but Mr. Nicholls was nowhere to be seen...not that I was complaining.

"Alright...I've managed to persuade Father to not send for the police – " the Captain started to say and Imogen let out a joyous squeal.

"Oh, thank you _so _much, you're the best!" I cried, fighting the urge to throw my arms around him in a bear hug.

"There is one condition, however..."

"Oh."

The smile slid off my face and my glee dissipated somewhat, not sure I was going to like this. What sort of 'condition' did he have in mind? However...

"You claim that you have solid proof – aside from this," He held up the penny I had given to him. "- that what you told me is true."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Imogen sidling over towards Jamie Stewart in what she clearly thought was a subtle manner, only...Imogen didn't _do _subtlety. I heard Alice sigh a little as she reluctantly joined her.

"Sure I have," I answered Nicholls quickly. "I can show you proof easy-peasy."

Captain Nicholls hesitated for a moment, apparently contemplating whether he should ask me his next question or not.

"Do you...do you think it's possible that you could show me?"

My eyes widened a little. This was the condition? Well, that wouldn't be so bad.

"Yeah...I guess I can show you..." Then an idea suddenly sprang to mind. "I can show you some stuff from our time, if you like? Now if I was raving mad or lying - which you all obviously think we are – would I have suggested that?" I added, raising my eyebrows.

"I didn't say you were either of those things," he said with a small laugh. "Well, how about this? If I let you go back to your own...world, do you think you could come back, say, tomorrow and you can bring along something to present to me?"

I nodded eagerly. "Yeah, definitely! That's no problem," I said, smiling widely for the first time since I arrived here, and he returned the smile warmly. He looked slightly to his left and I followed his gaze at the twins on the other side of the room, standing near Jamie. Imogen was giggling and trying to engage the Major in conversation, twirling a long strand of blonde hair round her forefinger in a flirtatious manner, whilst Alice just stood there rigidly with her arms folded and a scowl on her face. I immediately caught onto his train of thought.

"Don't worry...I will _not _be bringing Thing One and Thing Two along with me," I murmured to him, leaning forward slightly so that only he could hear.

"Good...I – I mean – " he stuttered suddenly, catching himself. "I-I'm sure your friends are both charming but – "

He cringed at his own clumsiness and I couldn't help but smile as he tripped through his words; it was just too adorable. I had only been in the company of this man for a short time and I already really liked what I saw.

"Jim, I'll meet you at the _Duke of York_," Stewart called to his friend, taking his coat and hat from the rack they had discovered us hiding behind. "If you can tear yourself away," he added dryly.

"Alright, Jamie, I won't be long now," the Captain answered, rolling his eyes a bit at Stewart's little dig.

"Miss Carter," Stewart nodded and tipped his hat at Imogen, who looked like she was about to wet herself when he acknowledged her. "Ladies," he added, nodding curtly to Alice and me before marching out of the door. Imogen was now bobbing up and down excitedly on the balls of her feet.

"If you got any closer to him, you would've been in that suit with him," I heard Alice hiss at her sister to which she only giggled.

"Well, I think we've bothered you enough for one day," I said to Nicholls brightly. "I really think we should be getting back. Thank you so much for everything, Captain Nicholls."

"Don't mention it, Miss Monaghan," he answered graciously. "Do you mind me escorting you?" He proffered me an arm. _How cute was that?_ I shot him a grin and wrapped my arm around his.

This didn't go unnoticed by Alice, and as we made our journey back upstairs, she said, "You're a lot nicer than your friend," earning a glare from Imogen and a polite little laugh from Nicholls.

"I apologise if Jamie was on the brusque side with you, Miss... I know he can be pompous sometimes but you couldn't find a finer or more decent chap once you get to know him,"

Judging by the look on Alice's face, it didn't look like she wanted to get to know him. It sounded like Elmer Fudd and Bugs Bunny had got along better than those two had. A couple of minutes later, we had arrived back in the bedroom and were standing in front of his wardrobe which had been left slightly ajar. Captain Nicholls watched, aghast, as the twins climbed into the wardrobe first and disappeared into the darkness, before turning to me.

"Until tomorrow then, Miss Monaghan."

He inclined his head in a slight bow. I stared. I don't think I had ever been bowed to before in my entire life. Not unless someone was being mocking in some way. I blinked and smiled at him.

"Until tomorrow, Captain," I murmured.

"Come _on,_ Rosie!" I heard Alice call impatiently from the depths of the wardrobe.

I made to step up into the wardrobe when a hand reached out to grasp mine. I started slightly but realised Nicholls was only assisting me like the perfect gentleman he was. I shot him a grateful albeit awkward smile and made my way after the twins, trying very hard to ignore the pleasant tingling sensation where my hand had been in contact with his. Soon, the three of us were shrouded in darkness again and I pulled out my torch to guide us back up the stairs and into my room. Once there, I gazed around my bedroom as though expecting to see something out of the ordinary but everything was how we left it. I shut the door behind us, turned the key and locked it.

"Oh my god - Mum!" I cried suddenly and before I could think of anything else, I tore out of my bedroom and thundered down the creaky stairs, taking two at a time in my haste, the twins hot on my heels. I had just reached the hallway when I nearly collided into my mother.

"Whoa!" she cried. "Watch it, love!" I threw my arms around her in a tight hug. "Rosie? What are you – "

"Oh god, I'm _so, so _sorry! You must've been going out of your mind, I'm _so _sorry - !" I babbled at her.

"Uh...not that I'm not pleased to see you, Rosie, you daft goose, but...what the heck are you on about?"

Mum prised herself out of my boa-constrictor-like grip and gave me a strange look. I stared back at her, dumbfounded. What was with this uncaring attitude?

"W-what? Haven't...haven't you been worried about where we've been?" I asked her. She blinked at me in surprise.

"Why would I? You've only been upstairs. I was only talking to you girls about an hour ago..."

I exchanged confused and shocked looks with Alice and Imogen, who both seemed just as flummoxed as I was. _An hour ago? But we had been gone _ages.

"Are you sure?" I said to my mother.

"Yes..." said Mum slowly as though she was speaking to someone who was extremely dim. "I was just coming to ask if you three wanted something to snack on?"

"Uh..." I couldn't really think straight; this weird new piece of information had completely thrown me. "Uh, no thanks, Mum. We might just go and uh...hit the sack. It's been a long day, you know?"

"You sure you're alright?" Mum asked with concern.

"Yep! I'm good! 'Night, Mum."

"G'night, love...G'night, girls," she added to the twins as the three of us trooped back up the stairs. Once back inside my bedroom and out of earshot, I turned to the twins.

"The time is all screwy. It's night here when it's day time there...we've been gone for hours and yet only an hour has gone past here...Also, I found out it was March there when it's summer here. What's that all about?"

Alice shrugged. "I dunno! None of it makes any sense!"

"So, it _is _kind of like the Narnia thing after all?" Imogen said. "No, I know what it's like – _Monsters, Inc. – _"

"Oh, shut up, Im!" snapped Alice.

I collapsed onto my bed, ignoring the way the springs groaned in protest and buried my head in my hands. I felt both physically and emotionally exhausted. This whole ordeal had given me the mother of all headaches. I guess that certain mystery about the strange time lapses could wait for now. I was far too tired to even think about it anymore.

"You and Captain Sexy looked very cosy back there," piped up Alice suddenly and I looked over to see she had a teasing smile on her face. "What did you guys decide, anyway?"

"We agreed that to prove we were from the future and back up what I told him, I could go back tomorrow with something from this time to show him," I said.

"Meaning he wants to spend more time with you so he's invited you back for a date," translated Alice. "Aww, how sweet!"

"Oh my god, it's _not _a date so you can get that idea out of your head right now," I told her firmly, pointing a finger at her.

"Still means he wants to spend more time with you," she retorted smugly.

"No, it doesn't."

"It does."

I could feel my cheeks grow suddenly very hot.

"I hate you," I grumbled half-heartedly, picking up a cushion and throwing it at her.

"You're blushing," Imogen informed me in a sing-song voice.

"Then I hate you as well," I added, glaring at her.

"You know it isn't that unbelievable," she continued as though we were discussing something as trivial as the weather. "You're a woman, he's a man...You have needs. He has needs..."

"Imogen!" I hissed indignantly, my face flushing even more when I realised she had gone from 'dating' to something else entirely.

"I quite like the thought of being with an older man," Imogen said, her dreamy expression back in place. "Especially _you, _Rosie. You're so innocent and inexperienced, a virile adolescent might frighten you. A classy, distinguished gentleman would take much better care of you..."

She patted the top of my head like I was a little kid but I swatted her hand away and groaned, "I can't believe we're even talking about this."

"Well, _I _can't believe the cute guys are hitting on _you,_" answered Imogen. "First that Michael gave you his number and then Nicholls asks you for a date – "

"For crying out loud, it's _not _a date and he _wasn't_ hitting on me! I've only just met the man...and on that note, I think we should get some sleep 'cause I don't know about you two but I _really _need it."

* * *

_I know it's unlikely Nicholls would have believed Rosie that quickly, I just didn't want to drag that out too much, I reckon that would've been boring. And as you probably noticed, I've a fetish for Benedict's voice...in fact, I have a fetish for quite a few actor's voices XD Seriously, I could happily sit and listen to him reading out the dictionary. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you did, please do leave me a review! :) Until next time, my darlings! Xx _


	8. Chapter 8

_Hello, darlings! Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I blame it on a combination of writer's block, popping in and out of hospital to see my nan, and just real life being a royal pain in the arse. Inspiration has not been very kind to me as of late. Anywhooo...Thank you to everyone who left me such beautifully kind reviews for my last chapter and to those who have added to their favourites/follows too. I really appreciate it! This is a bit of a filler chapter to be honest. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it! :) _

* * *

**Chapter Eight **

Imogen, Alice and I awoke the next day to a gorgeously sunny Saturday morning. I was heartily grateful for the fact that I didn't have to work that day; I didn't think I would have been able to concentrate. My headache from last night still plagued me this morning. The three of us had decided to take full advantage of the glorious weather and planned to go for a trek around the beautiful Devon countryside. It would also enable us to discuss what had happened yesterday without any fear of being overhead by my mother.

Alice was already up and dressed, muttered something about giving Jason a ring and headed out of my room with her mobile to call him. I was just applying some mascara to my lashes when I heard Imogen let out a loud shriek from the bathroom, which startled me so much, I ended up with a great black smear on my eyelid. _Ugh, thanks a lot, Imogen! Hello, panda eyes_.

"Oh _no!" _I heard Imogen moan and then I could hear her rattling about the bathroom. "Oh god...my necklace!" she cried. "Where is it?"

I heard the bathroom door bang open and a second later, she barrelled into my bedroom, wearing nothing but her matching blue underwear and started rummaging around through her belongings in a panic.

"What's up with you?" I asked her, fetching a wipe from my dresser to fix the black smudge of mascara.

"My necklace!" she all but screamed in answer. "I've lost my necklace! Have you seen it?"

I only shrugged in answer. I didn't honestly remember her ever wearing a necklace.

"Nope, sorry..." I said. "What does it look like?"

"It's a silver chain with a sapphire droplet on it..." she frantically explained.

"Did you take it off last night?" I asked her.

"_No! _Our gran gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday and I don't _ever _take it off!"

She started ferreting around her sleeping bag which had been thrown into a haphazard pile on my bed, jogging my arm in the process just as I was trying to fix my eye and this time I nearly ended up poking myself in the eyeball with my mascara wand. I sighed and gave up.

Imogen was now going through the pockets of her denim jacket but let out a frustrated sigh when she couldn't find what she was looking for. As she stood there with her back to me, one hand running distractedly through her long blonde tresses, I swallowed back a brief bout of envy at her curvy figure and confidence at wandering around in nought but her undies. It was then that I spotted a tattoo on Imogen's lower back: an intricate-looking design of a black dragon. I couldn't help but smirk at the thought of the look on Jamie Stewart's face if he ever saw _that_.

"Where'd you get that?" I asked her. Imogen turned her head to look at me, looking puzzled.

"What?"

"The tattoo," I said, nodding at it.

Imogen twisted round slightly to look down at the tattoo.

"Oh...I got it when I was sixteen. My mum hit the roof when she found out. She wanted me to use my college money for having it removed."

"Which you obviously didn't do."

"Nope!" she answered, heading back towards the bathroom. "She even threatened to kick me out of the house!"

"What? Over a tattoo?" I asked incredulously, following after Imogen and staring at her in shock. She pulled a coral-pink t-shirt over her head and nodded.

"Yeah, well...our mother's very highly-strung... But Alice managed to talk her round and persuaded her not to... I know Alice and I fight a lot but I've gotta admit she's always there for me when I need her most," Imogen finished, a little fond smile gracing her features as she talked about her twin sister. "Don't you find it strange to not have any brothers or sisters?" she added to me, pulling on a pair of blue jeans as she spoke.

I shrugged a little. "Not really... Sometimes I wish I did have a sibling to talk to. But I don't know any different, I guess." At that moment, Imogen's doppelganger came trudging up the stairs, looking a little on the disgruntled side. "You okay, Alice?" I asked her.

"I've just tried to ring Jason but he's not answering. I rung both his flat and his mobile but it just goes straight to voicemail..."

"Wow, this sleepover really is turning into a game of hide-and-seek," I said. When Alice looked confused, I added, "Imogen's gone and lost her necklace."

"Gran gave you that necklace!" Alice said reproachfully, rounding on her sister with a slightly accusing look on her face.

Nevertheless, the three of us endeavoured to continue to search all over the house for Imogen's beloved necklace but to no avail. In the end, we gave up and decided to have breakfast and I promised Imogen if I ever came across the necklace, I'd let her know.

We needn't had worried about not being overheard by my mother about our little escapade in 1914; Mum had already gone out. As I was making everyone coffee, I found a post-it note from her stuck on the fridge.

"'_Gone shipping',_" I read aloud. "No, that can't be right...'_Gone shopping'." _

I took an appreciative sip of my coffee, the perfect combination between bitter and sweet. The hot beverage warmed the pit of my stomach, its satisfying flavour helping to perk me up and feel better, already easing my headache. I looked over to see Alice was still staring morosely at her phone, turning it over and over in her hands. She had tried to ring Jason another three times and she still couldn't get hold of him.

"I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation why Jason's not answering his phone," I pointed out to her.

But despite my constant consoling, Alice remained monosyllabic and she did not look entirely convinced. However, half an hour later, when the three of us set out for our walk, the fabulous weather seemed to brighten both mine and the twins' moods. I know that I had had my misgivings at living in Devon at first but now seeing all of this beautiful scenery stretched out before me, I really don't know what I had been complaining about.

After the crazy shenanigans of yesterday, the rolling green fields were bliss. As the twins and I sauntered along a woodland footpath sheltered beneath a canopy of oak trees, the summer sun shining through the leaves, casting us all in dappled spots of light, I let the serenity and beauty of the countryside and pleasant breeze playing about my curly hair soothe me. I bet that this place would look absolutely stunning in the autumn when all the leaves changed colour...a splendid myriad of orange and red. The only sounds which could be heard were the cheerful warbling of birds and the long 'baa's' of sheep in a nearby field belonging to a local farm.

"Soooo...have you any idea what you're going to show Captain Sexy?" Alice asked me as we walked, ripping into my daydream and snapping me back to reality. She sounded much chipper than earlier.

"Not yet," I answered.

What could I show him? A history book obviously wasn't a very good idea. All at once, a tidal wave of nervousness washed over me. When I went back to see Captain Nicholls, I was going to have to be very careful about what I was going to say.

"Well, what're you going to wear?" Alice continued to question me.

"I haven't the foggiest idea," I said, realising this for the first time; I obviously did not have anything that was appropriate for 1914. "I suppose I'll just have to go as I am..." I gestured at my current outfit; a green short-sleeved hooded top and blue jeans.

"Oh, Rosie..." Alice sighed exasperatedly. "Is that it?"

"What's wrong with it?"

Alice favoured me with an almost pitying expression. "Rosie, I love you, babes, but you haven't got a clue sometimes. It's bordering on frumpy, that's what's wrong with it!"

"It's comfy," I retorted in defence, a tad annoyed at this dig at my taste in clothes.

"Comfy? Oh my god, why don't you just throw on a beige cardigan and slippers and have done with it?"

"Ha ha, very funny," I said sarcastically.

"But this is how a girl from our time dresses so if he doesn't like it, that's his problem," said Imogen sullenly. She seemed to have already gotten bored of this walk and was obviously still pretty upset over the loss of her necklace and not her usual giggly, smiley self.

"Well, I know but can't you put on something a bit more...feminine-looking?" Alice continued, eyeing my apparel with something close to distaste. I cocked an eyebrow at her. "You want to look nice for your date, don't you?" she added in a tone like she was speaking to a small child.

"Haven't I already told you this isn't a _date_?" I growled, glaring at her.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever... Alrighty, Bushy-Haired One – " she ruffled my curly hair as she spoke, " - as soon as we get back to your house, I'm gonna ransack your wardrobe and give you a girly makeover!"

_I can hardly contain my excitement, _I thought sarcastically. But I didn't say anything aloud. The idea of being my personal dresser seemed to have caused Alice to cheer up immeasurably and I didn't have the heart to refuse her.

The twins ended up spending the rest of the day at my house, insisting they wanted to wait up for me until I got back from my little trip through the door. After all, not much time would have gone past for them. It was a curious thing indeed, but time had an annoying habit of speeding up when you were dreading something or feeling nervous about something. Then it creeps along agonisingly slowly when you're looking forward to anything. While I wasn't exactly dreading my little meeting with Captain Nicholls, I still could not help but feel nervous butterflies flutter like crazy in my stomach.

After wandering around the house, trying to find inspiration for what twenty-first century item I could show him, I opted for my portable CD player. Surely that couldn't hurt? Plus, it wasn't anything _too _complicated for him to understand. It was small and light enough for me to carry, with a handle on top and it did not need to be plugged in for it to function. Now what sort of music? Something told me he would _not_ appreciate the likes of Rihanna or Queen. Better stick with something that would be familiar to him. Luckily my taste in music was quite eclectic so I had plenty of classical music to choose from. I ended up picking a CD with a compilation of some of my personal favourite pieces by the likes of Beethoven, Tchaikovsky and Elgar.

After much rummaging around and practically empting my entire wardrobe onto my bed, Alice had unearthed a silky, floral-patterned top which _was_ rather pretty, I had to admit, but I didn't actually remember ever buying it. I still wore my jeans, however. I had showered, washed my hair, and Alice was now attempting to tame my unruly curls into submission and arranging it into a French ponytail. Despite my initial scepticism, I was quite enjoying having her fix my hair for me; I always did enjoy the feeling of someone playing with my hair ever since I was little.

As I looked at my reflection, however, I wasn't entirely sure about this silky top she had me wearing. It just seemed to hang awkwardly on my lanky frame. Why did I buy this top anyway? As I continued to stare critically at my reflected self, I could see a pimple throbbing angrily red on my forehead. Typical.

"You will be careful, won't you, Rosie?" Imogen piped up suddenly, breaking into my thoughts. I looked at her reflection in my mirror; it looked worried.

"What do you mean? I already know I've got to watch what I say – "

"I don't mean that...I meant...well..." She trailed off, biting her lip.

"Spit it out, Im," Alice said impatiently as she tried salvaging my hairstyle; wisps of hair were already escaping and falling around my face. It was like my whole body was rebelling against me.

"Well, what if this Captain Nicholls isn't who he says he is? You don't even know him. What if he's a...a...pervert or - or a mass murderer or something?"

"Oh, Imogen, is that likely?" I asked with a laugh, thinking that this was ridiculous. "Hey, not five minutes ago, you said he was a 'classy, distinguished gentleman'," I pointed out to her.

"Well, you never know!" she answered in defence. "He might have _seemed_ like a gentleman but what if he's just luring you back under false pretences? What if he's – "

"What if he's a serial killer? What if he's got a secret wife locked in the attic?" I cut her off, as Alice let out an impatient sigh. Imogen still seemed pretty worried so I smiled at her. "I appreciate your concern, Im, I really do. But I'll be fine, I'm sure we've got nothing to worry about on that front."

I really do not know what Imogen was stressing about. My first impression was that Captain Nicholls had seemed like the most decent man I had ever met and never gave any indications he was a total nutjob or a pervert or any of those things.

"Do you think I should go now?" I asked, glancing at my clock. It was nine-fifteen in the evening. That was roughly the same time the three of us had gone through the door the night before, so logically it should be sometime in the morning at the other end. _Logical..._I thought with a snort. _None _of this was logical at all.

"Yup, you're all set," answered Alice as I went to unlock the door. "Don't forget this!" she said quickly, holding up my CD player.

"Oh, right..." I took it from her, blushing, as I _had_ forgotten about it. I felt stupid then because after all, this was the reason I was going back. I pulled open the door and stared down the dark stairway for a moment. "Okay..." I heaved a shaky breath, stomach churning, looking back at Alice and Imogen. "Wish me luck!"

"Good luck!" the twins chorused at me.

Stepping through the door, I did feel like one of those characters in a book or film; like Lucy going through the wardrobe to Narnia...like Alice going through the Looking Glass...like Jack Skellington finding the door to Christmas Town. I made my way down the stairs, feeling increasingly more and more nervous at every step I took, wondering if I was just making an idiot out of myself and making the biggest mistake ever. Oh, great, Imogen had gone and planted the seed of doubt in my mind now. Was I really doing the right thing in going back? I told myself to stop being paranoid. A promise was a promise after all. I had already told Captain Nicholls I would come back.

Mentally berating myself to calm down, I started to quietly recite _The Walrus and the Carpenter _to myself; _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland _was my favourite book in the world. Call me weird, if you like, but whenever I felt down or nervous over anything, I would quietly recite this particular poem to myself. I really didn't know why but it just seemed to offer me comfort in some way.

"'_The sun was shining on the sea,  
Shining with all his might:  
He did his very best to make  
The billows smooth and bright -  
And this was odd, because it was  
The middle of the night. _

_The moon was shining sulkily,  
Because she thought the sun  
Had got no business to be there  
After the day was done -  
"It's very rude of him," she said,  
"To come and spoil the fun!" _

_The sea was wet – ' – _Ow!"

I didn't have the chance to get started on the third stanza as I collided into a dead end, and when I looked up I realised I had in fact gone past all Captain Nicholls' clothes; I had been so preoccupied that I hadn't noticed. I let out yet another sigh. _Well, here goes... _

Shifting my CD player from one hand to the other, I rapped my knuckles on the back of the wardrobe door, feeling that that would be much better manners than just barging in like I had the last couple of times. I waited a minute or so but there was no answer. I knocked again. Still no answer. I frowned slightly. He _was_ still expecting me, wasn't he?

Trying to swallow down my slight panic, I groped for the door handle and to my intense relief, the wardrobe door swung forward. One quick sweep of the bedroom told me at once that Captain Nicholls was not there. But the room wasn't unoccupied, however...

* * *

_Sorry for the lack of the loverly James but he'll be in the next one, I promise! :D Hope you enjoyed this chapter and please don't forget to review. Until next time, darlings! Xx _


	9. Chapter 9

_Hello, darlings! I hoped to update again before I go on holiday to Cornwall at the end of the week as I don't think I'll have access to the internet. But I'm still taking my laptop with me so I can work on future chapters. Thank you to all those gorgeous people for leaving such lovely comments since my last update. I'm really having such fun writing this story and knowing others seem to be enjoying reading it just as much, means such a lot to me! You're all so wonderful and I love you :) I hope you enjoy this chapter, it took me quite a long time to write so I hope it's worth it! This is a bit of a 'getting to know you' chapter...Rosie/Nicholls-ness ahoy! ;) _

* * *

**Chapter Nine **

I heard a soft mewing noise and looked round in surprise to see a scruffy-looking ginger tomcat. It had been curled up on the chair in front the empty fireplace, stretched luxuriously and now stood to greet me, tail held high. My nerves beginning to dissipate a little at the sight of the cat, I smiled at it and stepped out from the wardrobe, shutting the door behind me. I was always such a big sucker for animals. I approached the cat slowly so as not to scare him and reached out a hand to stroke his head.

"Hello, there," I cooed at him. "You're a beautiful boy, aren't you?" The cat let out a meow as though in agreement. "Where did you come from, eh?"

The cat let out another friendly meow and rubbed his soft head against my knuckles. He closed his golden eyes, purring loudly, seeming to thoroughly enjoy the attention.

"I see that you've met Tiger," a voice spoke from behind me, making me start and let out a slight yelp.

I turned to see Captain Nicholls framed in the doorway, smiling at me. I had been so absorbed in making a fuss over the cat that I did not even notice him enter the room. Just like the time when I had properly laid eyes on him yesterday – was it really only yesterday? – I felt my chest tighten. Those nervous butterflies from before had returned in full measure. Actually, forget the butterflies...it was more like an entire _zoo_ in my stomach. He was looking very dapper in a charcoal-coloured suit today; the morning sunlight streaming in through the window shone upon his person, and as he approached me, it seemed to light up his eyes which already sparkled with life, and I found myself lost in beautiful pools of aquamarine. As I drank in his wonderfully tall frame, it was all I could do to stop my knees from giving way.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Monaghan, I did not mean to startle you," he apologised, giving me a charming smile. "I am just so glad that you came..."

_So am I_, I involuntarily thought to myself, lowering my eyes a little so as not to be caught staring at him so boldly. He sounded almost relieved that I had shown up.

"I promised I would, didn't I?" I said, smiling friendlily with what I hoped was a casual manner, continuing to pet Tiger's head to distract me somewhat.

"You are an animal lover, Miss Monaghan?" Captain Nicholls asked me.

"Oh god yes, I adore them," I answered enthusiastically. "I've always wanted to have a dog but my mum's allergic to them sadly."

"That is a pity," he said, also reaching over to stroke Tiger's head; the cat stretched himself again and rubbed himself against his master, purring all the more. "Tiger's not really supposed to be in the house, he lives in the stable to keep the rats away...he must have crept in, the sneaky devil..." Nicholls picked up the cat. "I'll take him down before my father sees him... Shall we?" he added to me with a smile, and after one of those little awkward dances of "No, you first", he followed me through the door and out onto the landing.

As we descended the stairs together, he adjusted the squirming cat slightly in his arms to maintain a better hold so Tiger wouldn't be tempted to run away. He didn't seem to mind in the least that his smart suit was getting covered in tiny ginger hairs.

"You obviously love animals yourself," I said to Captain Nicholls conversationally.

"Yes, I do. Very much so. Though I prefer horses. I always did have a certain fondness for them... Do _you_ ride, Miss Monaghan?" he added.

"Not since I was seven," I answered. "I used to go to riding lessons quite a lot but then I fell off a horse one day and I broke my arm...it kind of put me off for life..."

The pair of us lapsed into silence for a moment, the conversation trailing off. My nerves were still jangling and they were not helped by this slightly awkward silence which had ascended on us. Thankfully, by this point, we had reached the foyer and Nicholls headed towards a door which apparently led to the rear of the house.

"Off you go, Tiger," he murmured to the feline, bending down to let the cat go. "Go on now, shoo..."

As though he understood his master's words, Tiger trotted off on his merry way, tail held aloft and out of sight. Captain Nicholls straightened up and returned to me, brushing off cat hairs as he went. He then showed me through yet another door and I found myself in another room which I had not seen before. It was a bright and cheerful-looking little parlour with a large bay window at one end, the morning sunlight making the room brighter still. Like in Captain Nicholls' bedroom, the walls were a pale blue in colour and a cream-coloured settee sat in the middle of the room in front of a fireplace. As I looked over by the window, there was a mahogany table all beautifully set out with a pristine white tablecloth and patterned china teacups and saucers, obviously meant for two people.

I couldn't speak for a moment; I was too enraptured with the loveliness of it all. However, I was spared having to talk by the arrival of the same middle-aged woman I had seen before who had answered the door to let Major Stewart in.

"Ah, Mrs Anderson..." said Captain Nicholls, smiling at the woman.

Mrs Anderson, I assumed, was the housekeeper or something along those lines. She was an austere-looking woman, with greying auburn hair and she wore a plain black dress, lace-up boots and a pinched expression.

"Will you be wanting for tea now, sir?" she asked in crisp voice and I heard the hint of a Yorkshire lilt to her accent.

"Yes, please, Mrs Anderson, that will be splendid..."

"Very good, sir."

Mrs Anderson's gaze fell on me briefly and I smiled politely at her, which she did not return. However, just before she left the room, I did not miss the way her eyes swept over my choice of clothing. Though her expression remained impassive, I could detect distaste in her eyes and I felt my cheeks grow warm, feeling suddenly self-conscious and very out of place in my plain old jeans in all this old-fashioned splendour. Whatever must she think of me, coming in here dressed like this? I shuffled my pump-clad feet nervously, my palms sticky with sweat.

"Please do sit down, Miss Monaghan..."

Captain Nicholls, who didn't seem to mind in the least what I was wearing, strode forward to pull out of the chairs for me and once I was perched, he helped me nudge the chair back into place. I placed my CD player on the rug-covered floor beside me. I noticed the curious expression on Captain Nicholls' face as he glanced at it before he took his own seat, obviously intrigued to know what it was.

Mrs Anderson had only been gone a couple of minutes when she returned with a silver tray bearing a matching silver teapot and a cake stand. As she set it on the table between us, Captain Nicholls thanked her and I saw that the stand was filled with dainty-looking cakes and biscuits. It was all perfectly lovely.

"You didn't have to go to all this trouble," I mumbled to the Captain, feeling a little embarrassed, wringing my hands in my lap.

"I know...but I wanted to somehow make up for how rude my father was to you and your friends..." he answered.

"Well...we _did_ kind of barge into your house," I said reasonably.

"Yes...but that still does not excuse for the way he behaved toward you..."

Somehow, I didn't think that was the exact reason for this lovely spread but I did not question it. Mostly because I was momentarily rendered speechless when Captain Nicholls favoured me with the most disarming smile which made my heart rate speed up and the butterflies in my stomach flutter frenziedly. I was most grateful when he broke eye contact to busy himself with the task of pouring out the tea. I still continued to watch him with great fascination, trying to get my heartbeat to resume its normal pace. I lowered my gaze a little but that turned out to be a mistake too as I looked at his pale, slender hands...Good god, even _they _were...

"Do you take sugar?" a voice asked suddenly, breaking into my thoughts.

"...Beautiful..."

"I'm sorry?"

"What?"

I blinked and started. I looked over to see he was now staring bemusedly at me. _Oh, damn and bugger, did I just say the word 'beautiful' out loud? What an idiot!_

Now fully aware my face was fast becoming the shade of a tomato, I stuttered out, "Uh, y-yes – two please..."

I cringed at my stupidity. Captain Nicholls only looked amused, however, as he added two sugar cubes into my teacup with a pair of silver tongs.

Trying to find something to distract myself with, I contented myself with admiring the beautiful parlour around me and despite my embarrassment, a small smile involuntarily worked its way onto my face. How many times during my life had I dreamed of being part of a scenario such as this? Like I had just walked onto the set of a period television drama, only this wasn't a set...it was the _real thing_. A little ripple of excitement darted through me. If I was capable of such a thing, I would have done an Imogen and let out a fangirl-ish squeal. But I didn't want to humiliate myself any more than I had already so instead, I settled with biting my lip slightly and smiling giddily.

"I trust you had a pleasant day, Miss Monaghan?" Captain Nicholls enquired politely, starting a new line of conversation again to soothe over my moment of awkwardness.

"Yes, I did, thank you," I replied, turning back to face him.

"I hope that your mother was not too distressed by your absence?" he added, his brows furrowing in slight concern.

"Ah. No, that's the thing," I said. "She had no idea that we had even gone!"

"What do you mean?" he asked with a frown.

I launched into the story of how the twins and I had returned to my house and gone to find my mum, only to find out that according to her, we had only been gone for an hour.

"So, she has no idea that you are here now?" asked Nicholls after my story.

I shook my head. "No one does except for the twins," I said. "What about here? Who else knows about all of this?"

"Apart from myself and my father, only Jamie," he assured me. "Father certainly won't want something like this to get out so you can rest assured _he _won't tell anyone else..."

"And your friend, Jamie, won't say anything, will he?"

It was Nicholls' turn to shake his head adamantly. "I've known Jamie since our days at Eton...I would trust that man with my life. He won't breathe a word, I can promise you that... Please do help yourself, Miss Monaghan," he added cheerfully, gesturing to the cake stand before taking a sip of his tea.

I was feeling a little too jittery and on edge to eat to be perfectly honest but I took a biscuit just to be polite. I thankfully had the sense of mind to remember to nibble at the biscuit in what I hoped was a delicate manner and not wolf it down like the Cookie Monster in _Sesame Street. _

As I sipped at my own tea, I remembered to sit up straight, trying to appear at least a little ladylike. My grandma, bless her dear soul, had been a stickler for posture and during my youth, she was forever telling me not to slouch. I was no lady by any means – after all, I certainly didn't _look _like one - and I wasn't about to pretend that I was. But the least I could do was to show a little decorum and respect the era I was in. Not only that, I wanted to show respect for the man before me. After all, he didn't _have_ to persuade his father about not going to the police. He could've just had me and the twins thrown into prison and have done with it. I certainly never expected to be sitting here all civilised and having tea with him!

"Captain Nicholls..." I piped up after a moment. "I just wanted to say thank you again for not getting the police involved."

"Please, Miss Monaghan, as far as I am concerned, it's already forgotten about," he said, waving a dismissive hand. I smiled gratefully at him.

"Still, it must've been really strange for you..." I reasoned, "...seeing some strange woman suddenly pop out of nowhere in your room, going on about being from the future..."

"I did feel rather like I had just stepped into an H.G. Wells novel," he admitted with a smile. "No stranger than it must have been for _you, _to find a mysterious staircase in your house."

"True," I nodded. I paused to take another gulp of the sweet tea. "You like H.G. Wells?" I asked him.

"Well enough. You are familiar with his work even where you're from?" He sounded mildly surprised.

"Oh yeah, I love a bit of sci-fi. Well, I've read _The War of the Worlds..._and I have the musical version on CD."

I saw his eyebrows knit together in a confused frown. "On what, sorry?"

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know!" I said quickly. "Ah, well...that brings me to this..."

I picked up my CD player from the floor beside me and carefully pushed aside my teacup to place it on the tabletop so that he had a clear view of it. I had noticed Captain Nicholls had kept shooting discreetly curious glances at it before but he didn't actually say anything. But he was certainly eyeing it with obvious keen interest now.

"_This_ is what I brought to show you. This is a CD player," I started to explain.

"And what does it do to earn such a name?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Why, what d'you mean?"

"Well, in what way is it seedy?"

I had to press my lips together for a moment to fight the impulse to laugh. "No, no, C..D...it stands for compact disc. It's a music player. Works sort of the same way as gramophone records but it's on a disc instead..."

I opened up the top and brought out the CD from inside to show him. The disc caught the brilliant morning sunlight in a dazzling prism.

"You mean to say that that disc can reproduce sound like a phonograph?"

"Only way better," I grinned.

Captain Nicholls stared at the player a little dubiously as though he doubted that the object could make any sort of noise at all.

"It's so small."

"They get even smaller," I said as I flicked the switch on the player, thinking of iPods and all the various MP3 players that were around in my time. "Would you like to hear it?"

"Yes, please," he answered, his cerulean eyes lighting up as scepticism switched to eagerness. I had to smile at his enthusiasm; it was almost child-like – and completely adorable. He watched curiously as I replaced the disc in the tray at the top of the player and pressed the 'play' button to allow the gorgeous opening notes of Tchaikovsky's _Swan Lake _to drift gloriously through the air. We both fell into silence as I let him listen to the beautiful music.

"How extraordinary..." he murmured after a while. "It's as clear as a bell. It's almost as though I were at a concert hearing an orchestra play..." I let him listen to the rest of the track before switching it off. "Thank you so much for showing this to me," he said sincerely.

I blushed a little. "You're welcome... Hey, you're not going to tell anyone else you've seen this, are you?"

The last thing I wanted to happen was for the CD player to be invented about ninety years too early.

"Credit me with some sense of discretion, Miss Monaghan. Of course I'm not. It'll be our little secret," he said, a slightly mischievous but dazzling smile creeping onto his face.

_Ugh, please don't smile at me like that!_ my mind screamed and once again, I cast around for something to try distract me from the countless different fantasies rampaging through my head. I think that his gorgeous smile would just about be the death of me... I eyed the cakes on the stand and after a moment's contemplation, helped myself to one and took a bite, even though my mouth had suddenly gone dry. No offence to whoever baked these but they weren't a patch on Mum's but they were tasty enough.

"My mother's a baker, you know," I commented randomly.

"Oh, really? You are living with your parents still?" As he picked up the teapot to refresh both of our cups, his eyes suddenly widened as something had seemed to have occurred to him. "You're not married, are you?" He sounded suddenly alarmed at the idea that he may possibly have invited a woman to tea who was already spoken for. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for that to sound so blunt," he apologised quickly.

"No, it's fine! And no, I'm not married," I said and I held up my hand for emphasis to show him there was no ring there, waggling my fingers slightly. I saw him noticeably relax, looking somewhat relieved. "And no, I just live with my mum. You wouldn't think we were related to look at us. I'm the spitting image of my dad, though...tall...gangly...dark curly hair...the moustache, the works."

The captain chuckled at that. "But your father does not live with you?"

I felt a dull ache in my chest when he had asked that question. I still felt very bitter towards my dad. Mum was right; the divorce had greatly upset me, more than I cared to let on.

"My parents are divorced," I explained in a sullen tone. "Quite recently, in fact."

A faint crease appeared between Captain Nicholls' eyebrows as he noticed my expression. He seemed to have sensed that he had broached a sensitive subject. I saw him wince slightly as though he had thought he had overstepped the mark.

"Forgive me...I didn't mean to pry – "

"No, it's fine!" I assured him, smiling to let him know I wasn't offended.

After that, I found myself managing to relax as our talk turned to other topics. I told him a little about my life, briefly about me growing up in Sussex before Mum and I moved down to Devon. I told him about my job at the zoo and he was a little surprised at first that I was a working woman but before I could get all riled up about feminism and all that, it turned out he was an open-minded individual and actually was in support of women having equal rights and having the vote and all that business. He, in turn, told me he had lived in Somerset his whole life and briefly about his time being educated at Eton. I listened with fascination as he explained that he was an officer of the North Somerset Yeomanry, which I learned was a regiment of the British Cavalry. I remembered the smart, elegant uniform that Imogen had found in his wardrobe and found myself wondering how he looked in it; no doubt extremely handsome.

"Is it just you and your father living here?" I asked him, mentally shaking my head before my imagination could run riot again.

"No, no, there's my mother...And I have an older brother, Robert...but he is already married and lives in Bath with his wife. And then there's my younger sister, Georgina, she still resides here with us – "

Suddenly, we heard what sounded like the front door slam followed by the sound of booted footsteps. Both of us looked up at the noise and then we heard a woman's voice speaking rapidly, though I could not decipher the words. Before either me or Captain Nicholls could do or say anything more, a young woman entered the parlour as if on cue, looking exceedingly elegant in her beige-grey riding outfit, trimmed with black.

" – honestly do not know what is wrong with Percival today!" she was saying in slight frustration. But she stopped at the sight of us. "Oh! I did not realise we had company..."

"Oh...Miss Monaghan, may I introduce you to my sister, Georgina?"

"How do you do, Miss Nicholls," I said, nodding at her politely.

I was expecting a cold reception from her just as I did from both Captain Nicholls' father and Mrs Anderson. On the contrary, Georgina Nicholls' rich brown eyes lit up and sparkled like a Christmas tree.

"Oh, I say! Are you the lady who has come from the other world?"

I quirked an eyebrow at Captain Nicholls slightly accusingly. I thought that he had said nobody else knew about all this? He shot me an apologetic look as if to say 'I couldn't not tell her'. One look into those beautiful blue eyes of his, however, and I immediately softened. I turned back to face Georgina, whose countenance shone with eagerness as she awaited my answer.

"Um...yes, I am," I replied tentatively and she let out a gasp.

"Gosh, how _tremendously_ exciting!" she gushed, approaching me, stripping off her gloves as she spoke. "I was most sorry that I did not get the opportunity to meet you and your friends. Why is it that the moment that something even _remotely_ exciting happens, Father has me upstairs tending to Mama and I miss it all?" she added to nobody in particular.

"Gina – " started the Captain, looking like he did not really appreciate this interruption, but his sister talked over him, speaking at about a hundred miles an hour.

"Oh Jim, darling, don't be a spoilsport and keep her to yourself! Honestly, you're like a small boy who has just been given a new toy to play with and doesn't want to share..."

She hurried over to fetch another chair so that she could perch herself next to me. Up close, I could see that she must have been around a couple of years or so younger than myself, seventeen or eighteen at the least. She had the same shade of brown-blonde hair as her brother, which at the moment was swept back away from a narrow, kindly face. She was also quite short in stature in comparison to Captain Nicholls' elongated frame. She continued to prattle on at top speed.

"I thought to myself, 'Who is this mysterious lady who has my brother worked up so?' He hasn't stopped talking about you, you know? It's 'Miss Monaghan this...Miss Monaghan that' – "

I felt my cheeks grow a little hot at this. That wasn't really true, was it? I wasn't that at all interesting. Apart from the fact that I came from the future.

"Gina, you do exaggerate," Nicholls muttered, also looking faintly embarrassed at his sister's words.

"Oh bless him, look; he is all embarrassed now because I'm showing him up!" she giggled, patting his hands in a playful manner, before reaching out to help herself to a biscuit, though she wasn't taking too much notice of what she was eating, her eyes were too busy glued to me.

Now I knew how those animals at the zoo I worked at must have felt; Georgina kept on staring avidly at me like I was some fascinating museum exhibit. I had to marvel at how different the Nicholls siblings' temperaments were to their father; they must have taken more after their mother, wherever she was. All that I had heard of her so far was when Georgina mentioned about 'tending to her', whatever that meant.

"I say, whatever is this?" she asked suddenly as she spotted my CD player sitting on the table and gazing at it interestedly if not bemusedly.

"Some other time, perhaps, Gina," Captain Nicholls said pointedly to his sister. I was quite grateful that he had intervened; I didn't really feel like explaining it all over again.

I cleared my throat. "I, um...this was really lovely but I really think I should be going," I said, picking up my CD player and rising to my feet.

"Really? So soon?" Georgina sounded most disappointed, her face now forming a child-like petulance which reminded me of Imogen. "But I have only just gotten here!"

I actually found myself quite sorry to leave but I didn't know for sure how long I had been here in the parlour, so I did not know how much time had passed back in 2012 either.

"But you will come back and visit us again soon?" she asked hopefully. I noticed Captain Nicholls glance surreptitiously at me and I smiled at Georgina.

"Yes, I'd like that."

Both Captain Nicholls and Georgina insisted in escorting me back upstairs but Georgina said that she wanted to go up and change. Just before the three of us ascended the stairs, I spotted Mrs Anderson again. As she passed us, she favoured me with yet another look of disdainful suspicion.

"Don't mind Mrs Anderson..." Georgina said in an undertone, leaning her head towards me slightly as soon as we were out of earshot. She linked an arm around mine as though we were the best of friends. "The old trout can't help having a face like a horse's rear..."

"Gina," sighed her brother exasperatedly.

"Oh, gosh, you won't say I said that, will you?" she added to me quickly, wearing a guilty smile like a naughty child being caught at some wrongdoing.

But I grinned at her and said, "She won't hear it from me, Miss Nicholls, don't worry."

"Oh, please call me Georgina," she insisted. "Or Gina, I really don't mind! It was so lovely to meet you, Miss Monaghan, I _do_ hope you visit again!" she trilled cheerfully to me, before disappearing through a door, which I could only assume was her own bedroom, before I could even answer her.

"I'm sorry about Georgina," Captain Nicholls said as we ventured back into his bedroom. "I know she can be overbearing at times – "

"Why? I think she's sweet," I told him, which was perfectly true. Yes, she sounded very la-di-dah and seemed a great chatterbox but she appeared to be very nice-natured.

"Did you mean what you said?" he asked. "About you wanting to come back and visit again?" I turned my head to stare at him; I couldn't help but notice his tone sounded almost...hopeful? "I mean – I just thought...what with us being practically neighbours, it just seems a shame to not get to know one another better. That is – if you want to, of course?" he added quickly, his puppy-dog eyes gazing at me as though on tenterhooks.

Though I remained outwardly calm, my insides were dancing the conga. I honestly would've liked nothing better than to get to know Captain Nicholls more.

"I can bring you back something else to show you, if you like?" I suggested, not wanting to appear _too _eager in wanting to meet with him again.

"Yes, alright then... I'm afraid I cannot manage tomorrow, I am engaged elsewhere..."

"The day after tomorrow?"

"Very well...the day after tomorrow it is," Nicholls agreed with a nod. "I look forward to it, Miss Monaghan."

I was about to tell him that he could call me 'Rosie' if he wished but words escaped me once again, for Captain Nicholls had gently taken hold of my hand in his large, warm one and had placed a kiss on my knuckles and my body's reaction was immediate and unnerving. My breath caught in my throat...I felt an odd warm shiver course through my being like wildfire...goose bumps tingled their way up and down my arm, all from feeling his soft lips - however briefly - against my skin. When he slowly released my hand, I nearly moaned aloud at the loss of contact.

I gabbled out a hasty farewell before stepping up into the wardrobe and groping back through the wardrobe. I looked down at the spot on my hand where Nicholls had kissed it, almost as if he had burned a mark there. Smiling moronically like a Cheshire cat, I practically skipped my way back up the stairs.

* * *

_Hope you liked this chapter, my lovelies! As always, I'd love a review. Until the next time, m'dears! :) _


	10. Chapter 10

_Sorry for the wait, darlings! I hope you enjoy this chapter! :) Thanks to all who have reviewed! _

* * *

**Chapter Ten **

I was in a really good mood during the next day at work at the zoo. Unsurprisingly, though, I found it quite difficult to concentrate. That was mainly due to the fact that the twins kept on eagerly firing questions at me all morning. I had remained deliberately tight-lipped about what had transpired between myself and Captain Nicholls after I had gone through the door yesterday, but it was just to wind Alice and Imogen up a bit as they tried to wheedle information out of me. We didn't have many opportunities to talk properly; I was washing up at the sink while Alice dried, and Imogen was preparing a salad for today's lunch. Though it wasn't for lack of trying...

"Aww, come on, Rosie!" Imogen eventually whined to me from across the clangourous kitchen, not concentrating properly on the cabbage she was supposed to be chopping up for coleslaw. "You've kept us in suspense long enough. You've been really cheerful all morning. What did you guys do?"

When I failed to answer, Alice added, "Come on, what did you do to him? Did you leave him a spent force under the duvet?" Her eyes glinted wickedly as she said this and I could hear Imogen cackling away in the background like some dirty old woman.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, nothing like _that _happened!" I told her firmly. "We chatted over tea and biscuits and then I met his sister briefly..."

Honestly, what did they imagine happened between us? That he had thrown me down and had his way with me on the table over the tea things? I could feel my face burn at the very thought.

"We just had tea," I continued. "_Tea." _I emphasised again because Alice was smirking at me._ "_That. Is. All. "

But Alice was eyeing my quickly reddening cheeks.

"You're blushing," She pointed at my face. "Something _did _happen! Come on, spill!"

"Girls, come on! Less chatter, more working please!" one of the chefs, Bradley, called to us as he passed, clapping his hands sharply to gee us along. As soon as he out of earshot, however, Alice continued,

"Well?"

I sighed. "Alright, alright! Just before I left, he kissed my hand - "

I heard Imogen emit a loud squeal from the other side of the bustling room. _She must have the hearing of a German Shepherd dog_. The way she reacted, you would have thought Captain Nicholls had proposed marriage to me.

"There was nothing in it, he was only being a gentleman," I said quickly, trying to sound offhand about it but I remembered how my body had reacted when Nicholls had kissed my hand. All manner of feelings and thoughts had surged through me – not all of them entirely unwelcome. It had filled me with the desire of wrapping my arms around his neck...of running my fingers through his undoubtedly soft hair...peeling off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his waistcoat to - _Aah! What? _

"Ha! Told you! You owe me a tenner," Imogen's loud triumphant voice ripped through my scandalous musings and was now pointing a finger at her sister, looking extremely smug. I arched an eyebrow at the pair of them.

"Imogen and I had a bet on whether there would be any sort of lip contact," Alice explained at my nonplussed expression.

"What've you done to that coleslaw?" I heard Bradley say to Imogen from behind us.

"Chopped it?" she answered.

"You've _pulverised_ it, is more like it. That's not a salad, that's a cry for help, that is..."

I turned back to Alice and told her firmly, "Nothing remotely romantic happened between me and Captain Nicholls...nor is it likely to. Ever." _Especially with someone like me, _I couldn't help but think to myself.

"Are you going back to see him again?" asked Alice, raising an eyebrow pointedly.

"Yeah, tomorrow," I said. If it was possible, Alice's annoyingly knowing smirk widened. "Hey, what is wrong with two people getting to know one another as _friends_?" I asked.

But Alice was spared having to answer when Bradley appeared behind us, his arms folded and looking impatient.

"Is there any chance at all of you ladies doing some work today?" he asked. "Only there's a queue of hungry gorillas out there all gagging for their lunch."

"Sorry, Bradley!" we chorused.

* * *

By the end of the day, I was completely knackered. All that I wanted to do was to go curl up on the sofa with a bucket-sized mug of tea, a chocolate biscuit or three, and watch an old film like _Roman Holiday _or _Singin' in the Rain. _

"I'm _gasping_ for a brew. Do you want one?" I asked Mum, when I had returned home and changed out of my work clothes.

"Yeah, please, love," she answered gratefully, not looking up from her laptop she was busily tapping away on.

Once our tea was made, I popped on _Roman Holiday, _one of my favourite films, and sank onto an armchair. I took a soft sip of tea, my eyes fixed on the screen. Though for once, I couldn't focus on the gorgeousness that was Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck... My mind kept wandering back to having tea in that parlour back in 1914. Immediately, images of pale slender fingers curled elegantly around the handle of a patterned teacup and of dazzling blue eyes invaded my thoughts instead.

"What are you grinning about like the cat that got the cream?" Mum asked suddenly, ripping into my thoughts and I jerked my head up to see a smile of her own creeping onto her face as she watched me interestedly over the rim of her mug. She seemed to have abandoned what she was doing on her laptop. Apparently, I must have been enjoying my daydreams a little _too _much.

"Nothing," I said quickly. When Mum raised her eyebrows at me, smile still in place, I added, "The tea's nice."

"Yes, I know it is...but nobody smiles like that over a nice tea..." I didn't answer her. "I just thought it had something to do with that young man..." she continued in a would-be casual tone, her green eyes twinkling.

I nearly choked on the sip of tea I had just taken.

"W-what? What young man?" I babbled out, my eyes watering as I coughed slightly.

_How the _hell_ did she find out? How could she possibly know about Captain Nicholls? How did - _

"He called at the house while you were at work. A young man on a motorbike. Oh, what did he say his name was now?" Mum's fingers tapped against her mug as she tried to remember. "Ah, Michael! That was it!"

Michael? Michael Paris, did she mean? Well, she must have done. I didn't know any other Michaels. I didn't know whether I was relieved that Mum wasn't actually talking about Nicholls or not.

"Why did _he_ come here? What did he want?" I asked quickly.

"He asked after you. Said you two met in McDonalds one day and that he gave you his number... Anything you wish to tell me?" Mum asked, wearing an annoying smile just like Alice had done.

"No," I answered quickly. Now, I _definitely _could not focus on the film now. Why had Michael Paris suddenly shown up again? For some reason I could not explain, the mention of Michael made me feel extremely uncomfortable and disquieted.

"He seemed a nice young man..." Mum continued, oblivious to my suspicious thoughts. "You know I wouldn't mind if you brought a boy home, Rosie. Just because I've made a mess of things in _my_ marriage, doesn't mean you can't go out and – "

"Mum," I cut her off. "I'm not even remotely interested in Michael in that way, alright?"

"Okay, fair enough! Forget I said anything!" Mum trilled unconcernedly, taking a swig of tea, and the pair of us fell into silence for a moment and I stared unseeingly at the TV screen.

I wasn't interested in boys. I was interested in _men. Men like Captain Nicholls..._ said a sly voice in my head. _What? No, shut up, voice! _

"And it wasn't you who made a mess of your marriage," I continued. "Dad did a pretty good job of that."

"I do wish you wouldn't be so harsh on your dad," sighed Mum. After a moment's pause, she added, "I spoke to him on the phone earlier today."

I looked over at her. "Oh? How is he?"

"Yeah, he seems to be doing alright. He's going to be in Devon next week. I suggested that he come over to ours for lunch or something so we can catch up."

Mum hesitated, awaiting my response, as though she thought I was going to kick up a fuss, but I didn't. Yes, what Dad had done was extremely hurtful and I wasn't sure if I could ever forgive him for all the heartache he had put both Mum and I through. But if I was perfectly honest, no matter what Dad had done, he _was_ still my dad, and I had been missing not having him around.

"Sounds good," I said with a smile. "It'll be nice to catch up. I guess I can't keep going on ill-wishing him like one of the witches in _Macbeth, _can I?"

"Ah, I haven't told you the rest of it yet..." Mum said with a slight grimace. Catching her expression, I narrowed my eyes a little.

"I've got a feeling I'm not going to like what you're gonna say next..."

"I've got a feeling you're going to _hate _it," answered Mum grimly. "When I say that your dad is coming to lunch, I mean both him _and _Diana. She's coming too..."

I stared at my mother in disbelief. She has invited the woman who stole her husband over for _lunch_? _Well, way to go for ruining my good mood, _I thought.

"Diana is...coming _here_?" I asked slowly.

"Well...I just think it's about time we made more of an effort to get along," Mum said, spreading her hands. "Now I'm not saying we have to be best mates with Diana or anything – "

I snorted. "_That'll _be the day..." I rubbed at my temple distractedly; my head was beginning to ache like it always did whenever I became agitated over anything. "And you're okay about this, are you?" I asked Mum.

"I'm going to have to be, aren't I? And don't you dare try and find some excuse to wriggle out of it, either, when the day comes," she added, waving a threatening finger at me. "I'm not facing her on my own."

"Fine," I muttered morosely, sinking further down into the squashy armchair. "I can hardly wait..."

* * *

The next evening whilst Mum began to doze in front of the TV, I left to go and get ready for my visit through the door. I left my hair loose, raking a brush through my unruly mop of curls. I had long since given up trying to straighten my tresses; I could never be bothered with all those fancy haircuts or styles. I had tried using some of those anti-frizz products in the past but as soon as I left the house, within five minutes, my hair would start to curl up again. It was a real pain in the neck. These days I just left my hair as it was simply because it was so much easier.

I unconsciously found myself taking longer to decide what to wear than I would normally. After all, whatever I wore, it would not be appropriate at all for Captain Nicholls' time. But I was about to go and spend time with an extremely good-looking man – moreover a gentleman from 1914.

I wasn't exactly one who poured a lot of effort into my looks, especially if the circumstance didn't call for it. I never wore a lot of makeup anyway; a dusting of foundation and a couple of lashings of mascara was normally my limit. Why bother getting all dolled up when there was nobody to impress? Not that I was out to impress Captain Nicholls. Was I? I couldn't help feeling all..._bubbly _whenever he so much as looked at me. Especially with that earth-shattering smile of his. God, I really needed to stop behaving like a teenager. At the end of the day, it did not matter how I looked. Eventually, I settled for my black Pink Floyd top and jeans, then remembering that it was March on the other side of the door, I opted for a peach-coloured blazer to wear over the top – just to appear a little more girly.

I looked at myself critically in the mirror, turning this way and that. After a moment's consideration, as a finishing touch, I picked up a bottle of perfume, _Chanel Coco Mademoiselle – _the _only _expensive cosmetic I had – and sprayed behind my neck, wrists and once down the front of my shirt for good measure. _Oh, what the hell, _I thought, deciding that would just have to do.

I unlocked the door, pausing only to pocket my mobile phone, my modern item of choice to show to Captain Nicholls, and to listen out for Mum in case she was anywhere near my room, before making my way down the dark stairway. Taking care to actually concentrate on where I was going this time around, I held out a hand in front of me so I wouldn't go crashing right into the door at the other end.

I gently tapped on the wooden surface and waited. There was no answer. _Oh, not this again, _I thought in slight irritation_. _I knocked again but _still _there was no answer. Sighing slightly, I turned the doorknob and stepped out of the wardrobe, when -

"Good god, Miss Monaghan - !" a loud startled voice suddenly cried out.

"Ohhh my god, I'm _so_ sorry!"

My eyes widened and I clapped a hand over my mouth in total embarrassment before hurriedly turning to face the other way. As if I had not already embarrassed myself enough in Captain Nicholls' presence when I had more or less told him he had beautiful hands... Now I had just gone and walked in on him getting _dressed_! Was there no end to the humiliation?

Blushing so much, I thought I was about to pop a blood vessel in my face, I did my best to explain, "I didn't know you were in here!"

"...Sneaking up behind me like Marley's ghost..." I heard him mutter as I could hear the sound of him shuffling around behind me. "I wasn't expecting you quite yet... You should have knocked!" he added irately, sounding just as embarrassed as me.

"Marley's ghost had clanking chains," I pointed out to him. "And I'm _really _sorry but I _did_ knock, you just obviously didn't hear me!"

While I was facing the other way, I caught a glance of his reflection in his mirror above the fireplace. He too was facing away from me and I saw a teensiest glimpse of _very _nicely toned back muscle. _Holy moly guacamole... Okay, don't even go there, Monaghan! Just don't! _

Flushing even more, curling my fingers into embarrassed fists, I turned slightly, averting my gaze, searching around frantically for something to save me and distract me from our mutual utter embarrassment. My eyes swept over the ornate, golden fire guard in the empty grate which was in the shape of a peacock with its tail feathers all fanned out, until they landed upon his desk over by the window. From my vantage point, I could see the top of which was scattered with pencil drawings. While I waited for Captain Nicholls to finish getting dressed, I slowly ventured over towards the desk to go and take a closer look.

My heart gave a little leap of surprise and awe. The drawings were _beautiful. _Various pieces depicting things like horses, landscapes, rolling hills...one even of Georgina, whom I instantly recognised, the likeness so uncanny. Horses appeared to be the most favourite subject though. But they were the most lifelike I had ever seen. I picked up one illustration of a horse in the motion of running. He almost looked as if he were about to run straight off the page. The amount of detail was extraordinary.

I chanced a peek over my shoulder and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nicholls was fully dressed and that it was now safe to look. As I he took a suit jacket off one of those old-fashioned valet stands, I had to ask, "Did _you_ do these?"

Captain Nicholls looked up to see what it was that I was referring to as he shrugged on his jacket.

"I did indeed," he answered with a nod as he came to stand next to me.

"They're beautiful," I murmured in an awed voice.

I saw him flush a little at my compliment – either that or because he was still embarrassed from me walking in on him.

"Thank you..."

"I'm serious...you have an_ amazing_ talent... I wish I could draw _half _as well as you." An awkward silence fell between us at that moment. I winced a bit as I set the drawing back on the desk and I turned to him, finding it quite difficult to look him in the face. "I'm _so, so _sorry about before...I honestly didn't know you were there."

"Well, I didn't hear you knock. We're both partly to blame," he assured me with a little sheepish smile. "Shall we?" he added, and he proffered me his elbow. I smiled back at him as I tucked my hand into the crook of his arm, trying very hard to ignore the way my body was reacting. Whenever he touched me – even for a slightest moment – it felt as though he had scorched a hole right through my clothing. That fleeting glimpse of bare flesh was going to be forever imprinted in my mind. I mentally shook my head, banishing those thoughts as the pair of us headed downstairs.

I was sort of hoping to see Georgina again. However, this time, we came across Captain Nicholls' father, who was passing by, a neatly-folded newspaper tucked under his arm as he was making his way towards the lounge. He spared me a glance as we passed.

"Father," Nicholls acknowledged him.

"Good morning Mr Nicholls," I said as politely as possible.

"Good day, Miss," he grunted back at me, though I don't suppose he wished me anything of the sort. It certainly didn't sound it.

"I thought we might take a stroll about the grounds," Captain Nicholls suggested to me genially. "It is beautiful day out for the time of year."

"_What?_" his father's shocked voice spluttered from behind us. "You mean to say you're going _outside?_" Just like before, he threw my outfit a look of deep disapproval. "What if she's _seen_ by someone?"

_Who's 'she'? The cat's mother? _I thought irritably. His son looked as though he was strongly fighting the desire to roll his eyes at his father's comment.

"It's only the grounds, Father, and the land is private. Who's going to see us?" Mr. Nicholls looked as though he dearly wished to object further but he apparently could not find a reason why we shouldn't go out for a walk, so he muttered something incoherent and continued into the living room. As Captain Nicholls and I strolled out of the front door, he said, "I am sorry, Miss Monaghan. It is not like my father to be _this _inhospitable."

_You mean he's not always a grumpy old sod? _I thought to myself.

"Don't worry about it," I said dismissively. "I tend to have that effect on people."

I looked out at the beautiful scenery before me. A wide neatly-cut lawn stretched in front of us, a gravel drive sweeping away to the right. In the middle distance, I could see luscious green fields where several horses grazed. As the two of us made small talk, the morning dew shimmered on the grass as we walked, our breath mushrooming out before us in misty clouds. I was glad that I chosen to wear my blazer; there was still that chilly nip of March in the air.

We paused underneath a large cherry tree, whose widely-spread branches were still rather bare and the blossom not quite ready to bloom just yet. But I was willing to bet they would look gorgeous when they did. I turned back to look back at the house. I was _very _surprised that it was of similar construction to my own house, only it was bigger and looked much grander, what with its ornately carved exterior and mullioned windows.

"Your home is really beautiful," I said to the Captain quietly. But it wasn't long before my thoughts kept wandering back to the mystery of Michael Paris. Something of my thoughts must shown on my face, for Captain Nicholls tilted his head a little as he looked at me, an expression of concern crossing his features.

"Something is troubling you, Miss Monaghan?"

I hesitated for a moment before answering, "Michael Paris..."

"The gentleman from whom you purchased your key?" he asked.

"Yes...Him just _happening _to be there in McDonalds – that's a restaurant, by the way – at the same time as I was. I just think it's really fishy..."

I was absent-mindedly making my way around the tree trunk, holding onto it and swinging myself around. Captain Nicholls appeared to be lost in thought for a moment.

"If you don't mind my saying so..." he said eventually, "...don't you think you are reading a little too much into this? It could have just been pure coincidence."

"Oh, you think so, do you?" I said a little irritably, pausing in my swinging. "So, why did he show up at my house?"

"When was this?" he asked with a frown.

"Yesterday. I didn't see him myself, I was at work. My mum spoke to him. But he actually made a point of calling at the house. He couldn't have been just passing. We live way out in the sticks."

Neither of us, however, could think of any explanation what Michael's intentions were. Still, I wasn't going to let it spoil my time with Captain Nicholls. I found that my irritated mood melted away being in his company. The situation with Michael Paris, my dad and Diana coming over could wait for now and take a back seat; not forgotten, just ignored for the moment.

"So...what twenty-first century wonder have you come to delight me with this time?" he enquired, his blue eyes twinkling.

I grinned at him and I delved into my jeans pocket and brought out my mobile phone. It was smaller than the palm of my hand, dark pink in colour and light to the touch.

"Catch!" I called out cheerfully, tossing it to him. He caught it easily and gazed down at it curiously.

"What is it?" he asked.

"This little baby – believe it or not – is a telephone."

"Oh come now...I wasn't born yesterday, Miss Monaghan. This cannot be a telephone," he said in disbelief.

"It is! Honestly!" I said with a laugh.

The rest of our walk was spent with me trying to explain the evolution of the modern telephone, though it wasn't long before our conversation turned to other topics, our initial embarrassment forgotten about more or less.

We talked...we laughed...we bickered good-naturedly about this and that. It was really nice. Actually, it was more than nice. It was absolutely lovely; I enjoyed myself immensely. I thought about what Alice and Imogen had said when they were teasing me yesterday. So Captain James Nicholls was probably the most gorgeous and charming thing on legs I had ever met; a far cry from any guy of my age I had met back in 2012, who had about as much manners and gallantry as a wet rag. That did not mean that there was even the slightest chance in hell that he would be interested in me in a romantic sense. But I wasn't even sure that I wanted him to. It wouldn't ever work. On the other hand, I was still _more _than perfectly happy to be his friend.

* * *

_Teeheehee, lucky Rosie nearly getting to see Nicholls in the buff. I blame that sauna scene in Henry V. Unf. Hope you enjoye__d the chapter! And if you darling people have time, would you be so kind to read my lovely friend OhSoFabulousDarling's War Horse story 'Time Knows No Boundaries'. It's brilliant and I know she'd appreciate some feedback! Thank you lovelies! Until next time xx _


	11. Chapter 11

_Hello, darlings! I'm sooo sorry for keeping you all waiting. Here I am, new year, new pen name and a new chapter :) Thank you all so much for your patience and your amazingly wonderful reviews, every single one does bring a smile to my face :D I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and New Year; I can't believe it's 2013 already! I hope this year is going to be amazing for you all. I hope you enjoy this chapter! _

* * *

**Chapter Eleven **

"Do all ladies in your time wear trousers such as that?" Captain Nicholls asked me, eyeing the burgundy-coloured jeans I was currently wearing.

Time had passed... Springtime was now in full swing in 1914, whilst the summer, such as it was, continued to reign on in 2012. The Captain and I had just enjoyed the most delicious picnic. The pair of us were lounging side by side under that same cherry tree, our backs leant against the knarled trunk. Captain Nicholls had removed his jacket for us both to sit upon. It was the most beautiful day; pleasantly warm with a soft breeze playing about our faces. The tree's low-slung branches above us were now in full bloom, and I had been right in thinking that it would look absolutely beautiful. It was like the two of us were being shrouded in a glowing canopy of pink. Every so often, delicate little pink petals would drift down onto the grass around us.

I let out a small sigh of contentment as I gazed at the view before me. In the middle distance, I watched swallows skim like miniature jets over a little stream which bordered the property. I watched the birds zoom under and over a small bridge, catching flying insects on the wing. Sitting here like this in this glorious sunshine, surrounded by gorgeous countryside, an equally gorgeous man beside me, with my tummy full of tasty food and nothing but the sound of birds merrily singing to disturb the peace...I could quite happily have stayed here forever. Though, of course, that wasn't an option.

During my visits, although it started out with me bringing some small item from the twenty-first century, it wasn't long before that item was forgotten about and Captain Nicholls and I would just talk to one another about everything and nothing. By around my...I wasn't actually sure how many times I had gone to visit the Nicholls' house now, come to think of it - I didn't even bother using the excuse of taking something modern with me; I found myself wanting to go simply because I really enjoyed the Captain's company.

His father, of course, did not seem to approve of our meet ups at all. Thankfully, I did not see him that much but I really didn't understand what his problem was. As I had said to Alice, what was wrong with two people getting to know one another as friends? It was as though he was expecting me to go and thieve the family silver as soon as someone's back was turned.

His sister, Georgina, on the other hand, couldn't have been more different. She was the epitome of friendliness. Sometimes, whenever I came to visit, she would invite me to play cards with her or simply wanted someone – another woman - to happily gossip to. I got the impression that she didn't actually have many girlfriends to 'hang out with', so to speak and she seemed very much glad of my company. Apparently, Georgina had too many "new ideas", and was far too interested in the whole suffragette shebang for others' tastes. Her father _definitely _did not approve of that. Alice may have once described me as a girl who was born in the wrong era, but Georgina was very much a modern girl stuck in 1914. One time, I was explaining to her that women in my time were absolutely in no hurry at all to get married and have families. Plenty of women wanted to make careers for themselves and wait till later to settle down, some even choosing never to marry.

"Oh, how I do envy you, Rosie darling. That sounds like my idea of heaven," Georgina had sighed dreamily, a wistful expression on her pretty face as she listened raptly to me.

Mr. Nicholls, unfortunately, had overheard some of our conversation and proceeded to give me a right talking to and snapped at me that I shouldn't encourage her. I had been dying to retort that he should see my world, where women as young as seventeen could vote and that there had even been a lady Prime Minister but I didn't. If there was something I had learned from spending some time in this era, it was to learn when was the appropriate moment to hold my tongue and keep my mouth shut. My mother would be so proud of me.

So lost in my thoughts, I had almost forgotten that Captain Nicholls had asked me a question. I blinked and answered, "Oh, um... Nearly everyone – men and women alike – wear these..." I plucked at the material of my jeans and waggled my crossed ankles a little. "I think jeans became a fashion item around the 1950s – I may be wrong – and they've never gone out of fashion since...and I don't suppose they ever will... Thank you for this picnic, by the way, it was really lovely," I added.

On this occasion, Captain Nicholls had invited me to have lunch with him. Upon my arrival, however, it was to find he'd had a picnic prepared for the two of us to enjoy. We had some cold Melton Mowbray pie, fresh strawberries, grapes and had just now finished the last few mouthfuls of cake – which had been made by yours truly.

"Oh, it was my pleasure," he set his plate down on the grass beside him and smiled at me. Immediately, my stomach started doing the cha-cha at the simple gesture. "Thank _you _for the wonderful cake... How on earth did you know cheesecake was my favourite? I can't quite remember the last time I've tasted one so delicious."

"Lucky guess, I suppose," I grinned, shrugging, flushing a little at the compliment. Not wanting to toot my own horn (_Toot, toot!_), but Mum wasn't the only one in the family who was talented in the baking department. Hey, what can I say? It must have been in the genes. Alice once said why was I wasting my time in what she described as 'that crummy little kitchen' at the zoo? She reckoned I could train to be a patissier in Paris or something. Nice idea but I didn't think so somehow.

Speaking of which, Mum was doing really well with her cake business. There were now several cafes, coffee shops and tea rooms that wanted to stock her delicious treats. It was wonderful to see her so successful and by doing something she greatly enjoyed. I was ever so pleased for her. However, she still had absolutely no idea about this whole business with the door, its key and its mysterious power of being able to lead down a stairway into the Edwardian era. Nor did she have any idea about me taking regular trips there. I know that I was probably taking a bit of a risk with all these frequent visits through the door; after all, how long could I keep up this up without Mum finding out? Although she had noticed that I seemed to be a lot happier these days.

"Oh, by the way, I meant to ask you, Miss Monaghan...how did your luncheon with your father and his fiancé go?"

"How many times have I asked you now?" I said with a little good-natured roll of my eyes. "You can call me Rosie, you know."

"Sorry...of course...Rosie," he corrected himself, now reverting to calling me by my preferred Christian name.

"And in answer to your question, it was a bit of a disaster, to be honest," I said with a sigh. "Mum got so nervous – although she pretended she was fine – that her cooking...well, let's just say it didn't quite according to plan. And as for Diana...I'm sorry, I'm going to have a bit of a rant here," I added apologetically.

"I don't mind," Captain – I mean, _James_ assured me with a smile.

"She just... she kept making little snide comments about everything. Criticising things left, right and centre. I tried my best to stay nice and polite to her but she doesn't exactly make it easy for you. Quite honestly, I felt like giving her a slap."

Actually, that was a bit of an understatement. I wanted to _throttle_ her. Not just for making bitchy comments but for making my mother look a fool by stealing her husband from under her nose. It didn't help matters when Diana and my dad were _very_ touchy-feely with one another whilst they were visiting and not being the least discreet about it. But then again, I didn't think the word 'discreet' was a word which featured in Diana's book; she had been wearing the tightest skirt which was so short, it might just have well been a belt.

"That is not like you," James said.

"I know..." I sighed. "I don't know what my dad sees in her. It's not like she has a warm personality. He didn't even apologise for her afterwards, it's like he's had a personality transplant since he and Mum got divorced," I added rather sadly.

"I'm sorry..." James murmured after a moment, sensing my sombre mood.

"Why? It's not your fault."

The pair of us were silent for a while, thoughts of my divorced parents running rampant in my brain like a horde of angry bees. More out of habit than anything, without realising I was doing it, I began to quietly recite _The Walrus and the Carpenter _again. It wasn't until I got onto the second verse when it dawned on me that I wasn't alone in my reciting, and I turned my head to look over at James, staring at him in slight amazement. When he noticed that I had stopped and that I was staring at him, he smiled and abruptly ceased speaking as well, looking a tad sheepish.

"You know _The Walrus and the Carpenter?_" I grinned at him, more of an observation than a question. James let out a chuckle. The sound alone raised my spirits immeasurably.

"I ought to," he answered. "It's Georgina's absolute favourite. I would read _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ to her as a small child just before she went to sleep. And she _insisted_ it had to be me who read it to her; no one else would do."

I smiled at this as I could not help but secretly agree with Georgina. I had heard and read those verses so many times during my life and yet the poem sounded particularly wonderful when he recited it in that deliciously smooth, cultured voice of his.

"_Alice _is my favourite book, too," I told him with a smile. "Somehow, it always makes me feel better."

James looked at me and said quietly, "It is nice to see the smile back on your face..."

This just made me smile wider and I could feel my cheeks grow a little hot. We sat in a companionable silence again, perfectly content to simply listen to the cheery songs of blue tits who were hopping about in the branches above us. As I sat there, I thought about how I felt towards James. I glanced at him to study his handsome profile...the strong slope of his nose, his finely-chiselled features... Those wonderful baby-blue eyes, the corners of which crinkled whenever he smiled. Right now, they seemed to sparkle in the sunshine like two blue diamonds. I kept on telling myself that nothing could happen – _should _happen between us. We were from completely different worlds. He was a gentleman in every sense of the word whereas I...well...I wasn't a lady. I told myself to stop being so stupid. There was no way in hell he would _ever _look at me that way. As far as he was concerned, we were just friends.

_Doesn't stop the fact that you fancy the pants off him though, _that small sly voice echoed in the back of my mind_. _

"Look up there, there's a wren just to your right, do you see him?" James spoke suddenly in a hushed voice, pointing.

I looked in the direction of where he was pointing but I couldn't see the wren.

"Where?"

James leaned over slightly so I could follow where his finger was pointing.

"Just there..."

Sure enough, I spotted a tiny brown bird flitting about amongst the blossom; so fast he was, blinked and you would have missed him.

"Oh yeah, I see him!" I whispered.

"Extraordinary to think how the smallest bird has the loudest song," he murmured, as the wren let out a rich, bubbling tone.

I was now very much aware of how close together we were now sitting. Then I noticed him make a sudden motion with his hand and I felt him lean even closer to me. My heart rate soared. James was reaching out a hand towards me. He was so close, I could feel his breath tickle my cheek. _Swoon alert with knobs on! _I thought my heart was going to explode out of my chest. What had I been saying about being only friends...?

"Sorry – you just have some – "

Then I realised he was reaching towards my hair and was gently brushing away a few stray petals which must have fallen down from the branches above us.

"Oh..." I blushed profusely, both at the contact and my stupidity.

James cleared his throat awkwardly at our sudden close proximity so he leaned back and resumed his seat. A slightly awkward silence spiralled around us for a moment until I glanced down at my watch to check the time.

"I'd better get back home before Mum misses me," I said regretfully. I always felt a little tinge of sadness in my heart whenever I had to leave him.

"Yes, of course," he said, rising to his feet, and holding out a hand to help me up as well. I couldn't help but notice he sounded disappointed too. After I had helped him tidy and collect up the picnic ware, he added, "I still don't see why you have not told your mother about any of this," he said, picking up his jacket from the ground to brush off any bits of grass before he slung it over the crook of his arm. "Surely you could trust her with something like this?"

"It's not that I don't trust her..." I answered. "It's just...I have to agree with your dad; the less people who know about all this, the better."

James heaved out a sigh. "Perhaps you're right," he said, before offering his arm to me, the way he always did. Upon our return to the house, however, we found the dashing if not slightly imposing figure of Jamie Stewart waiting in the lounge. Though he appeared brusque, he greeted his friend quite jovially.

"Good day, Miss Monaghan," Stewart added to me, nodding his head. "I trust you are well?"

"Hello, Major," I said politely, clasping my hands together and trying to appear ladylike. "And yes, thank you."

"Miss Monaghan and I were just enjoying a picnic," James was saying.

"Ah, yes... A most splendid day for it," said the Major.

I contented myself in watching the cat, Tiger, sneaking past the door as the two men talked for a moment, until one particular question dragged my attention back to their conversation.

"How is your mother faring?" I heard the Major enquire.

At this, James sighed heavily and for the first time, the most tired and sadly worn expression formed on his face at the mention of his mother.

"Her health does not seem to be improving at all... She is deteriorating rather rapidly," he said quietly.

"I'm sorry, old man," Jamie muttered gruffly, his brows furrowing as he lowered his eyes.

I must have had a questioning look on my face, for James explained, "My mother has not been well as of late, Miss Monaghan...she's been suffering with tuberculosis. It has severely affected her lungs and left her bed-ridden for some time now."

I stared at him in great shock, too stunned by this sad news to even correct him on the use of my surname. He had never spoken of this to me before. But then why should he? It was nothing to do with me.

"Oh, god... I'm really sorry to hear that," I said sincerely, not entirely sure what else to say in the circumstances. Then I felt absolutely terrible; there was me prattling on about Dad and Diana when he had his own problems which were much, much worse than mine. My family issues were nothing compared to what he and his family must have been going through. It did not sound like her chances were very good, not by the way James had spoken. The look on his face was awful. It was clear that he absolutely adored his mother and I knew he would be completely devastated at her loss. I just wanted to wrap my arms around him and give him the biggest hug.

"Ah, Stewart," came the booming tones of Mr. Nicholls as he came striding into the lounge. "What brings you here?"

"Well, I was hoping Jim was going to join me for a bite to eat at _The Duke, _but it seems Miss Monaghan here has beaten me to it."

"Yes...my son does seem to have been rather _distracted_ recently," Mr. Nicholls answered as he sat himself in an armchair, not bothering to disguise his obvious disapproval as he threw me a rather accusing glare.

I fought the childish impulse to pull a face at the older man but only gazed stolidly back at him, refusing to let him phase me. I noticed James throw a faintly annoyed look at his father although it was fleeting, and seeing as Mr. Nicholls' face had now disappeared behind a newspaper, it was missed.

"I imagine Georgina is looking forward to her birthday celebrations?" Jamie asked his friend with a smile, changing the subject.

"Oh, is it her birthday soon?" I asked.

"Yes, next week," nodded James, "and we're going to be holding a party to celebrate the occasion." He hesitated for a moment or two. "Rosie?" he asked tentatively. "I have been meaning to ask you... I'd be most delighted if you consented to come along?"

I blinked in surprise. "Me?" I glanced around as though searching for someone else that he may have been inviting. But no, it _was _me whom he was addressing. "As in...coming...with you?"

"You are not seriously going to allow someone like her to be seen in _public_, are you?" asked Mr. Nicholls, staring at his son incredulously over the top of his paper.

I didn't like the way he said 'someone like her' but as much as it pained me to admit it, for once I actually agreed with Daddy Nicholls. _Me _at a posh party? Is he being serious?

"_Yes_, I am, Father because I know what you're like... This party is going to be thronging with all your friends and I know for certain they will see this party as an opportunity for matchmaking and trying to palm one of their eligible daughters off onto me..."

"Oh, I see," I said, raising my eyebrows. "And you want me there to save you from all that? You think that because I'm there as your guest, they won't do that."

"Well, no, that's not the only reason," he admitted, his face reddening slightly. _How adorable. _

He was now giving me that kicked puppy expression which, unknown to him, always made me melt and I couldn't refuse him anything. If he had said to me, "Please would you be so kind and jump out of the window for me?", I practically would have gone soaring through the glass. _Damn you and your beautiful eyes, Nicholls! _

"It would mean a lot to Georgina as well..." he added.

"What would mean a lot to Georgina?" piped up a voice, and Georgina herself had suddenly arrived and she looked round at us all interestedly. "Oh...hello, Major," she greeted, curtseying slightly, and Jamie responded by inclining his head at her respectfully. I wished people still did that sort of thing in the modern age.

"If I came to your birthday shindig," I explained, and her eyes immediately lit up.

"Oh, it's going to be simply _marvellous_!" she gushed, "I would so _love _it if you could come, Rosie! There's going to be dancing and champagne – "

"Dancing?" I repeated, unable to keep the slight tremor of panic out of my voice. That would mean... dancing with _James_. Georgina nodded rapidly at me, a big smile on her face. I knew that she loved to dance. "But I can't dance," I blurted out, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"Oh, pish! Anyone can dance," Georgina said dismissively, not about to let this small detail get in the way.

"Well, _I _can't, I'm warning you..." I said to James, "I have about four left feet."

But Georgina was having none of it, for she said, "Have you ever tried it?" I shook my head. "Then how do you know, silly?" she giggled.

I chanced a glance over at Mr. Nicholls at the other end of the lounge, who was frowning at me slightly from under his thick eyebrows, as though daring me to accept the invitation. Ignoring both him and the tiny little nagging voice in my head that I should probably decline, which would help in the long run when it came to my growing feelings towards James, I turned to face the others.

"Well...alright..." I agreed at last.

James flashed me another dazzling smile, obviously pleased that I had accepted.

"Then it will be my happy duty to teach you how to properly waltz, Miss Monaghan – "

"Rosie," I corrected automatically, unable to stop the huge smile tugging the corners of my mouth at his enthusiasm.

"Rosie," he relented. "If that is alright with you, of course?" he added quickly, as though he thought his suggestion was far too presumptuous. Oh, how I could refuse that face? And hey, I needed all the help I could get for I had no idea how to waltz or anything like that. I liked watching dancing on the TV but actually _doing_ it was a whole different ball game.

"I'll help you as well!" chimed in Georgina enthusiastically. "Oh, _do _please say yes, Rosie!" she begged, grasping hold of my hands and staring beseechingly at me.

_Oh, what the hell...why not? _

"Sounds good to me."

She let out a little happy noise and actually gave me a hug before turning to James.

"Is Charlie – I mean – is Lieutenant Waverly going to be attending?" Georgina asked her brother eagerly, her cheeks flushing a delicate shade of pink as she quickly corrected herself.

I quirked an amused eyebrow at her. I had heard of Charles "Charlie" Waverly. James had mentioned him a couple of times during our chats, though I had never met him. All that I knew of him that he was a good friend both of James and Major Stewart, and was in the same regiment as they were but, as Georgina quite rightly said, in the position of Lieutenant. Georgina had also mentioned him once or twice but whenever she did, her bright eyes misted over, so I had the distinct feeling that she fancied him.

"I daresay he will be. I have never known Charlie ever to refuse a party," said Jamie Stewart with a little chuckle.

I quickly looked at my watch. _Holy moly, I've been here ages! How long have I been gone back at home? _

"Well, I'd really better be going..."

As usual, James offered to escort me back upstairs. I was about to turn to leave up the staircase when the Major called to me from the hallway.

"Oh, Miss Monaghan? Before I forget...I came across this..." He reached into the pocket of his waistcoat and brought out something. "I was wondering perhaps if it belonged to you?"

At first, I couldn't tell what it was until I saw something shiny dangle down from his fingers and a jolt of recognition hit me. It was Imogen's necklace.

"Oh! No, this is Imogen's," I explained, taking the delicate pendant from him. "She was going crazy when she thought she'd lost it. Thank you..." I grinned at him. He nodded curtly.

"Not at all. Send my regards to Miss Carter, won't you?"

"'Course," I nodded, smiling, stowing the necklace safely into my jeans pocket. "Imogen will be really chuffed about this. I'll tell her you asked after her."

"Miss Monaghan..." He hesitated, as though battling with himself on whether he should ask his next question or not. I waited patiently for him to speak. "Do you think Miss Carter would agree to accompany me to Georgina's party?" he asked eventually, which surprised me somewhat.

"Imogen? Um...I sure she would - "

I think Imogen would go into cardiac arrest at the idea that Jamie Stewart was asking her out. However, the Major's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "No, no... I was actually referring to her sister...Miss Alice?"

"_Alice?_"

I blinked. Did I just hear right? He was asking _Alice _to go with him? He _liked_ Alice? But from what I'd heard, those two had fought like cat and dog when they had first met, and Alice said she hoped never to set eyes on him ever again. _Imogen_ was the one with the hopeless crush on him. On more than one occasion, she had eagerly asked me if I had seen Jamie Stewart during my visits through the door. But he liked Alice? Well, Alice didn't seem to like him. _Oh, dearie me_, _what a pickle_.

"Uh...Major," I said slowly, wanting to let him down as gently as I could. "You _do_ know that Alice is engaged, don't you? To be married? She's in a happy relationship already."

Although, strictly speaking, this wasn't entirely true. Alice hadn't been a very happy bunny as of late. She and her fiancé, Jason, seemed to be arguing a lot recently and going through a rocky patch. A few times, I had spotted Alice turning up for work, looking as though she had been crying; her eyes were puffy and red, she was very subdued than normal, and whenever anyone enquired if she was alright, she'd snap at them that she was fine. Though it didn't take someone with the deductive powers of Sherlock Holmes to see that she clearly _wasn't_ fine.

"No...I did not realise that," the Major admitted grudgingly. His face was now set into a frown, whether to hide disappointment, I wasn't entirely sure.

Not knowing what else to say, I bid Major Stewart farewell and continued up the carpeted stairs, James at my side.

"James, I'm so sorry again about your mother," I said quietly as we walked. "I can't imagine what you all must be going through."

"We are just taking each day as it comes... My main concern is Gina, what this is going to do to her. She simply dotes on Mother..."

Not wishing us to linger on what was clearly a painful topic, I said, "Thanks for inviting me to the party. Even though I'll probably make a prize twerp out of myself."

"Nonsense," said James dismissively as we approached his wardrobe. "You'll be just fine. Gina and I will help you."

Just before I stepped through, as was usual, James brought my hand to his lips to place a gentle kiss there. And as was usual, my heart did somersaults at the gesture and it was all I could do to resist the temptation of throwing my arms around his neck. When I returned to my room, I closed the door and locked it.

Leaning my back against the door, clutching the key to my chest, I started picturing myself waltzing around a grand ballroom. Then it hit me...that age-old dilemma that I'm sure had been thought of a million times before by a million girls before me, all thinking the same eight-word question...

"What the hell am I going to wear?"

* * *

_See, this is where it ties in with the title of this story now, hehe. Also, I remember reading or watching an interview somewhere that Tom likes cheesecake, so I couldn't resist slipping that in ;) _

_Just a parting question for you, my lovely readers: just out of mere curiosity, which role of Tom's is your favourite? I've loved everything I've seen him in so far. Loki, Capt. Nicholls, Freddie Page & William Buxton are probably my favourites though. How about you guys? ;) I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you did, please don't forget to review. Until the next time, darlings! Xx _


	12. Chapter 12

_I can't believe it's been so long since I last updated. For shame! I'm SO sorry, darlings! I hope you can forgive me and don't all hate me for leaving this story for so long. Thank you so much for the absolutely wonderful reviews, mere words can't describe how much they mean to me. I truly never expected this sort of feedback for my little story :) I LOVE YOU ALL, YOU'RE AMAZING! I hope you enjoy this very much delayed chapter._

* * *

**Chapter Twelve **

"Rosie, _no... _"

The music stopped for what seemed like the hundredth time in about thirty minutes. I heaved a great sigh, slouching a little before standing up straight again. The heels on Georgina's shoes clicked over the drawing room floor as she crossed to the spot where James and I stood.

"Rosie, you really must stop leading Jim. He is the man, you are the woman, so allow yourself to be led for once, yes? If you want to dance at the party – and it is going to look odd if you do not – be able to let someone else to take control," Georgina lectured me, sounding like one of my old schoolteachers.

"Alright, I got it," I answered with a sigh.

"You _have _mastered the steps beautifully, though," James added to me encouragingly, which I thought was sweet of him to say so.

"Only after I stepped on your toes about a gazillion times," I pointed out. I sighed again. "Alright, I'm sorry, I really am... It's just I'm used to being in control of myself at all times. This ballroom dancing is a _lot _harder than it looks."

That was the greatest understatement of the century. I found it _very _difficult indeed. Let's just say that I wasn't the world's most natural dancer. I found it hard trying to remember where to place my feet without having to keep looking down at them all the time; where to correctly position my hands, and trying not to get in a tangled mess with your partner's arm as they twirled you around – especially when said partner was so distractingly handsome.

James, on the other hand, was exceptionally gifted at dancing. On one occasion, as he and Georgina had demonstrated certain aspects of the waltz to me so I could see how it was properly done, I could not take my eyes off him. He moved with the utmost grace, reminding me of a panther sliding sinuously and effortlessly through the shadows of the undergrowth. _I think I watch too many of those David Attenborough nature documentaries, _I thought to myself. Except that there was no undergrowth in the grand, sun-dappled room.

I raised my arms and settled into the beginning pose for a waltz, my heart beating a little faster than normal at being in such close proximity to James. The hand on my waist burned my skin through two layers of cotton as he gently but firmly tugged me just that bit closer to him, making my hormones go haywire. As he placed my left hand in his right one, it felt just right. There was no fitting like puzzle pieces or any of that rubbish; it was...just..._right_. Like everything was how it was meant to be...or something else equally poetic.

"And don't grab onto him for dear life..." Georgina added, rearranging my fingers which were resting on James' shoulder so that they were shaped into a more elegant position instead of resembling a crab's pincer. "There...much better," she said, nodding with approval.

She then walked away to go and restart the gramophone, so that the room was filled once more with the sound of a pretty, lilting melody. And off we went again... At first, it was extremely awkward, and I fell into leading yet again but James pulled me closer and then the dance came perfectly together. I tried my very best to focus on my footwork rather than think about how warm his hand was in mine.

"That's much better!" he told me, smiling brilliantly as he twirled me around and then swept me back into his arms.

_Your smile should be made illegal, _I thought, caught completely off guard by the simple gesture and I lost count of the steps – and promptly trod on James' foot. Hard. At his wince, I gasped out, "Oh no! Are you alright? I'm _so _sorry!"

"I'm fine," he managed through a slight grimace.

"I just lost count in my head, sorry," I apologised.

I heard muffled giggling. Over James' shoulder, I could see Georgina eyeing the pair of us keenly and laughing from behind her hand. Choosing to ignore his sister's sniggering, James straightened up and turned to me.

"You have improved immensely though, Rosie, I must confess," he said.

Feeling elated at his praise, I replied, "Well, what can I say? You're a really good teacher." Silence fell between us, save for the music playing in the background. I gazed at him absently for a moment, trying to decide what else to say. "You have really beautiful eyes," I murmured, the words tripping out of my mouth before I could stop them.

And embarrassment struck once again. _Oh god... _

I flushed. He flushed. It was awkward.

"Thank you," he said softly, squeezing my hand ever so gently as though he thought I would break if he squeezed too hard. I only smiled and squeezed back, wishing very much that he and I had met in my own time with no obstacles like his father or class barriers to get in the way. I mentally shook my head, frowning a little. Wishing was not going to get me anywhere. The both of us were brought back to reality rather abruptly when Georgina gave a polite little cough. With great difficulty, I tore my gaze away from those gorgeous blue irises to look over at her.

"Um...I hate to interrupt but...shall we continue?" she interjected sweetly, an amused glint in her eye.

With a renewed determination, I resolved to enjoy those moments of being whirled around in James Nicholls' arms...most probably the first and only time I had ever even come close to such a true gentleman again. The minutes passed as we continued to dance, stretching out into a blissful eon for me. I was sort of hoping that Georgina would leave, allowing James and I to keep on dancing in private. I just wanted to stay as close to him for as long as possible... No, that just sounded ridiculously adolescent – and just a bit stalkerish. _Ugh, what kind of freak am I? _

While lost in my thoughts, James continued to lead me around our makeshift ballroom until the music came to a stop. When it ended, he twirled me around one last time and dropped into a bow. I mimicked a curtsey a la ballerina, which seemed to prove amusing to the younger woman by the gramophone.

"Bravo!" she trilled happily, applauding lightly, her face aglow. "That was much better. If you dance like that at my party on Saturday, Rosie, you'll be one of the most sought after women in the county. Mothers will be lining up their sons and nephews to introduce them to you!"

_I don't _want_ them to introduce them to me! _I thought frantically. Shrugging awkwardly, I only muttered, "Thanks, Gina. Please can you shut up now?"

James laughed, sensing my discomfort. Georgina only rolled her eyes good-naturedly, her smile widening.

"There really is no need to fret. Nobody but us and Major Stewart know of your past...or future, whatever way you want to look at it," she assured me, flashing a grin. "Well, now...I think we've done enough dancing for today. Let us have tea," Georgina suggested. "I'll have Mrs Anderson fetch us some..."

I actually would have preferred nothing better than to continue on dancing with James. I could have danced all night with him... A bit like that song from that Audrey Hepburn movie, _My Fair Lady. _

Before I knew it, I found that Georgina had left the room, leaving James and I alone together.

"Is that right what Gina was saying?" I asked him, heading for a sofa which we had pushed to the side of the room to give us more space to dance, and sitting down.

"That nobody else knows about where you are really from?" the Captain finished for me. "Yes, it is... You really have no reason to worry, Rosie, none at all."

"I just want to know something...why _did _you persuade your dad into not having us arrested that time?" _Hello, most random subject change in the history of subject-changing, _I thought.

James came and sat beside me, unintentionally pressing his thigh against mine. A jolt of static electricity ran through my veins at the contact.

"I had no desire to see a perfectly lucid, refreshing young woman be taken to the madhouse. You do not belong there, especially when there is nothing wrong with your mind..." He broke off for a moment, looking as though he almost seemed surprised by his own words.

I stared at my hands in my lap, wondering if there was going to be any repercussions for my being honest about coming from the future. I was pretty sure that there were plenty of small-minded folk out there who certainly would not take kindly to my tales of mobile telephones, iPods and female Prime Ministers or a million other things. Only now did I truly realise that if word got out about me, it could land the Nicholls family in hot water for harbouring a potentially insane crackpot and I would be shipped off to a loony-bin and be experimented on by crazy 'doctors' whilst being mistreated and malnourished...

As though he understood what was going through my mind, James suddenly took hold of my hand, curling his slender fingers round mine and squeezed. The gesture was surprisingly intimate.

Before I realised what I was doing, I found myself leaning towards him, filled with the strong desire to kiss him there and then. But then the rational part of my brain kicked in... _Nothing _like that could happen between us, I told myself for about the millionth time. And even if it did, what then? He would want to do the proper thing and get married. If his father would allow that, of course, which I highly doubted. And then what would happen? As much I adored the past era, I couldn't imagine myself actually living there _permanently_; I would go mad without all my mod cons. And I wouldn't dream of asking James to come to live in my world and leave his home and his family, I just couldn't do that.

_Abort! Abort! Abandon ship! _

Very reluctantly, I pulled back away from him. I heard him give out a small sigh, almost like one of annoyance. "Rosie – " he started to say but then his sentence was cut short by the return of Georgina.

"Tea is on the way," she said cheerfully, coming to perch herself on my other side, though I was only half listening to what she was saying. "Oh, Rosie, darling, I meant to ask you...how are you getting on with finding a dress for the party?" she asked me, perfectly oblivious to what had nearly occurred.

I chanced a glance back at James to see that a crease had formed on his forehead, and that he looked disappointed. Frustrated, even. Meeting my gaze, I was quite surprised and a little unnerved at the look of steely determination in his blue eyes. It made my skin tingle and prickle in the most peculiar way. I wondered what on earth he was thinking about...

Only just remembering that Georgina had in fact asked me a question, I said quickly, "Oh, um...I haven't managed to find anything yet..."

The other girl looked positively stricken. "Oh my word! You simply _must _find something soon! The party's on _Saturday_!"

I was painfully aware of that.

* * *

Okay, so apparently I had the dance steps down alright. Now all I had to do was to find something to wear that would be acceptable at a high-society party in Edwardian times. I had been busy perusing the internet and gone to look in fancy dress shops but so far, I hadn't found anything even remotely suitable. Georgina's party sounded like it was going to be some swanky do, meaning that there were going to be lots of swanky people. I needed a proper outfit, the real McCoy...all by Saturday.

But just before I could begin to panic over the fact that I could not find anything in time, my saviour came in the form of Alice... Although she was clearly upset about her problems with her fiancée, she refused to talk about it, and had thrown herself enthusiastically into the challenge at helping me find an outfit. To my great surprise, she appeared to have been successful.

"I've got something to show you," she said, beaming widely at me the next day at work during our lunch break. "I might just have found somewhere you'd be able to get a dress from..." She fished a magazine out of her handbag and flicked through the glossy pages until she found the one she wanted. "Feast your peepers on this..." she said enthusiastically, holding the magazine out toward me.

I looked down interestedly at a large advert, which read, '_Delilah Gaudino Designs' _in swirly copperplate writing along with a photo of a beautiful blue gown.

"I looked at her website. She does these _amazing_ vintage outfits – and she makes them all herself," Alice explained, now pulling out some print-outs from her bag to show me.

"Alice, you're a genius," I grinned at her, touched that she had found this for me. "Delilah Gaudino? Is that her real name, d'you reckon?"

Alice snorted. "I doubt it..."

I looked at the photos of people wearing costumes from various time periods. There was one woman in a wide, lavish pink skirt in a rococo-esque design, complete with a huge curly wig clearly trying to resemble Kirsten Dunst's role as Marie Antoinette. Another in a gorgeous sea-green twenties flapper dress, positively dripping with sparkly frills but oh goodness me, did it look so _elegant_.

"She sounds awesome, doesn't she?" Alice continued, seeing my awed expression.

"She sounds _expensive,_" I corrected, my heart sinking at the fact that there was every possibility that I could not afford a dress of this calibre.

"You don't have to _buy _a dress, you can just hire one out..."

My eyes flickered over the printout, thinking for a moment.

"Where is this place?" I wondered aloud.

"Uh...Plymouth."

"Plymouth?" I repeated, staring at her.

"It's Cornwall, Rosie, not Siberia," answered Alice, rolling her eyes. "I can drive you there, no probs. Why don't you, me and Im go together? Make a day of it?"

I gazed down at the magazine. I most likely wasn't going to find anything else like this...and I only had a few more days until Georgina's party. Time wasn't on my side.

"Let's do it," I nodded decisively.

* * *

"Are you sure this is the right place?"

I looked out of the car window to see that Alice had pulled up outside an old cottage with a wildly overgrown garden, and narrow stone steps leading up to the door. If this Delilah Gaudino was such a prestigious designer, I was expecting some sort of classy boutique. But this cutesy little cottage did not seem the kind of place to purchase a posh Edwardian-era dress.

Alice glanced uncertainly at her sat-nav before grabbing up the print-out which had the address written down.

"That's what it says on here..." she told me, shrugging her shoulders.

"Well, we're not gonna find out sitting here, are we?" Imogen piped up from the back seat, unclicking her seatbelt and popping open the door. "Come on!"

I grabbed my bag and made to follow the twins through a squeaky iron gate towards the charming little house. Roses were blooming around the door and a set of wind chimes were hung up, waving in the gentle breeze. There didn't seem to be any sort of doorbell, only a brass plaque next to the door which read _'Delilah Gaudino Designs' _in the same swirly writing as in her magazine ad, which confirmed this was indeed the right place. I raised my hand and rapped my knuckles upon the door, which I noticed was in dire need of a lick of paint.

A few moments later, the door was flung open to reveal a tall, willowy woman with jet-black hair pulled back into a tight bun. With her narrow pale features and heavy makeup, coupled with her haughty expression, she completely reminded me of the villainous Maleficent from _Sleeping Beauty..._only sans the horns. And the pet crow and magic staff. She wasn't wearing long robes, however. She wore a very stylish-looking black dress suit; she did not seem to fit into this landscape with the cute cottage at all.

"Are you Miss Gaudino?" I asked a little nervously.

"_Ms._ Gaudino," she corrected me in a reedy voice. "And yes, I am. And you are?"

"My name's Rosie and these are my friends, Imogen and Alice. We'd like to see some dresses of yours – "

"Do you have an appointment?" Delilah shot, raising one heavily pencilled eyebrow.

I glanced at the other two uncertainly. "Um, no. We didn't know we had to make one..." I confessed.

"I am a very busy woman," said Delilah snootily. "And I take bookings by appointment only. You can't just waltz in here unannounced..."

"Well, we're very sorry but we didn't know. But we _have _driven quite a way just to come and see you," Alice said, sounding peeved that she may have forked out money for petrol needlessly. I made a mental note to pay her back if that were the case.

Ms. Gaudino let out a dramatic sigh. "Oh, very well. I suppose it can't hurt just this once... Come in, come in..."

The three of us scuttled over the threshold quickly, shutting the door behind us and staying close together as we looked around.

"Follow me, please... My workshop is this way," Delilah called out to us, leading the way down a corridor.

Delilah Gaudino's place surprised me. A _lot_. I was expecting her place to be one of those really posh boutiques. Instead, we found she did all her work at home. Her cottage was fascinating; it was simply crammed with various ornaments of dragons, witches and wizards, unicorns, fairies, mermaids. The whole place smelled of incense. Dream-catchers were hung up at the windows or at various places on the walls. Plaques hung up with phrases saying things like: _"If you stop believing in fairies, you better pray they don't stop believing in you." _And there were clocks _everywhere! _All you could hear was continuous loud ticking. It was like walking into Geppetto's workshop. How could you sleep with all of those in the house?

"I wondered whose broomstick that was parked outside," Imogen muttered under her breath, and I elbowed her in the ribs to make her shut up before continuing to follow the older woman.

"What sort of dress were you looking for?" she asked as we walked.

"Rosie here, is going to a fancy dress party – " began Alice. We had rehearsed this story already.

"And I was gonna go as a lady from Edwardian times...you know, 1912 to 1914, that kind of era?"

"Ahh, how very _Downton Abbey!_" crowed Ms. Gaudino.

She led us to the back of the crowded house where two rooms were being used as a workshop. It was simply cluttered with rolls of fabric, sewing machines, coils of ribbon and boxes of pins and needles. I did not see anybody else in the cottage. Did Delilah do all of her outfits herself? Surely not?

The second room was full to bursting with racks of an assortment of clothes befitting any occasion you could possibly think of. It was like a wonderland of costumes. _This is going to cost an arm and a leg_, I thought fearfully.

"This place is...very impressive, Ms. Gaudino," I told the older woman, unable to keep the tone of awe out of my voice.

For once, Delilah smiled. Well...sort of. She showed a lot of teeth and yet there wasn't a single crease on her face. It looked very odd. Botox injections, more than likely.

"Thank you..."

Imogen picked up a pale pink, lacy fan and began whisking it back and forth in front of her face, giggling.

"Please do _not _touch the stock!" Delilah ordered her sharply, her smile disappearing in a flash and glaring at the blonde girl, looking ready to breathe fire. "They're _not _toys!" and Imogen practically threw the fan back to its original place. Delilah turned back to face me.

"Were you thinking of buying a dress or did you want one for hire?"

"To hire, please," I answered.

"Very well... Allow me to show you my collection of Edwardian ladieswear... I think you'll find all my designs are entirely exclusive - "

"Well, I was thinking of something like – "

"Ah-ah-ah!" Delilah held up a pointed forefinger with a long crimson-painted nail, interrupting me. "You do not know what you want. Delilah...she _shows_ you what you want, yes?"

The next couple of hours or so was a dizzying blur of fabric and colour. I must have tried on what felt like over a thousand different dresses of various sizes, shapes, styles and materials. Delilah never seemed to be satisfied; constantly muttering about a particular garment being the wrong colour, or that it did not flatter my figure or my skin tone...all kinds of things. It was too this, it was too that... Did she want my custom or not? The only dress she seemed to deem worthy enough was a bright purple dress which was _way _too fussy for my taste and I told her so.

"Haven't you got anything simpler?" I asked hopefully, now beginning to feel very tired. Trying on dresses was surprisingly exhausting.

"You want something...understated?" Delilah prompted. "Understated but still elegant?"

"Um...yes, I suppose so," I nodded. I didn't particularly want people gawping at me at the party for wearing something so ridiculous. The last thing I wanted was to draw attention to myself.

The older woman pursed her lips in thought for a moment. "I may have the very thing...wait there..."

As I waited to see what else Delilah was going to show me, Imogen and Alice helped me dismantle the lurid purple monstrosity I was currently sporting and carefully removed it from my person so as not to tear or rip it. Delilah would probably turn into a dragon if we damaged any of her stock.

"Now...how do you feel about _this _one?" I watched curiously as she whipped off a plastic cover from a hanger and she held up yet another outfit for me to see.

"Now this, I based off a Parisian design," Delilah explained. "I must confess this is one of my favourites..."

Oh my goodness, I could see why...it looked absolutely _wonderful!_ Why didn't she show me this one before? My tiredness soon forgotten at the sight of this splendour, Delilah allowed me to try it on. When I stepped out of the changing cubicle, there was a collective gasp from both Alice and Imogen.

"Oh...my...god..." was all Imogen said.

_Oh, lordy, what's wrong with it? It's hideous, isn't it? I look like a total twerp, don't I? _

I turned around to gaze at my reflection in the mirror, bracing myself at what I was about to see. However, I did a double take and let out a little gasp. Was that _me_? I hardly recognised myself! I gawped at the mirror, turning this way and that, trying to see all angles of the dress at once.

The long skirt was mostly a charcoal colour, the hem a teal blue, with a darker blue-green sash at my middle. The elbow-length sleeves were made out of a black, silky sort of mesh-type material; peacock feather motifs had been embroidered onto the bodice and shoulders with a metallic thread, adding a shimmery quality to the garment. More peacock feathers lined the front of the skirt.

Dresses normally hung really awkwardly on my tall, lanky frame, which was why I never normally bothered with them. But this...I had to admit, Delilah definitely knew what she was talking about. This _flattered _my figure rather than make it look awkward and clumsy-looking. Already, I was automatically holding myself differently, lifting my diaphragm, straightening my back and holding my chin up a little. This was, by far, the most elegant and most beautiful item of clothing that I had ever worn in my life...and probably would ever wear again. I almost could get away looking like every inch the wealthy Edwardian socialite.

"I know it needs adjusting...but what do you think of it?" Delilah asked, eyeing me intensely for my reaction. "I thought the peacock feathers...they bring out the green of your eyes, no?"

"Ms. Gaundino..." I breathed. "It's absolutely perfect..." I turned to face the twins. "What do you guys think?" I asked tentatively, for I knew Alice would certainly be the first one to criticise if there was something even slightly wrong with it. But Alice seemed just as awestruck as I was.

"Rosie, it's _gorgeous..." _she said.

"You don't think it's a bit...over the top?"

"Heck to the no," said Imogen fervently, shaking her head. "Rosie...you'll be needing to take a bat with you to fend off all those eligible bachelors that'll be sniffing round you..."

"Oh, shut up," I muttered, shaking my head, though I could feel the beginnings of a blush on my cheeks. I turned to Delilah Gaudino with a big smile on my face.

"I absolutely love it... I'll take it!"

* * *

_Some points of interest for you: _

_The piece of music that I had Rosie and Jim dance to was the 'Cristina Elisa Waltz' from the soundtrack of A Little Princess. Not only did it inspire me for the scene, I had a good dose of nostalgic feels as that's one of my absolute favourite childhood films. (And it's set in the same era) It's a lovely track, go Youtube it :) _

_Delilah Gaudino is just someone I made up. As for her cottage...when me and my family were house-hunting last year, one property we looked at was this really cute cottage and the inside was crammed full of clocks, it was quite amazing – it was literally like Geppetto's house. I loved it so much and thought it had so much character that I wanted to include it in my story somehow. And as for the dress that Rosie chooses, that is loosely based on an actual Edwardian dress I found online, which is really beautiful. _

_Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, darlings! Please don't forget to review. Until next time! Xx _


	13. Chapter 13

_Hello, darlings! I didn't leave it so long to update this time, did I? :P Thank you so much for your reviews/favs & follows, all the emails coming through make me so happy! Okay, so it's not about the party in this update but I hope you won't be too disappointed. Hope you enjoy, darlings!_

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen **

I had fast come to the conclusion that dancing with James was now one of my all-time favourite things. For me, it was up there with cake, books, chocolate and spring time. I couldn't get that lovely tune of the waltz he and I had been dancing to out of my head at all the next day at work. I was forever humming it to myself. I was having visions of Alice snapping at me to shut up once and for all... Except that Alice hadn't turned up for work this morning. I knew that it was Imogen's day off, but on Fridays, it was usually mine and Alice's day. I found out from Bradley, the head chef, that she had phoned in sick. It wasn't like Alice to be ill, which got me worried. The rest of my shift passed on very uneventfully; it was _way _too quiet without the twins and I found myself missing their presence a great deal.

Luckily, I finished my shift at around three o'clock, so instead of taking the bus home, I headed into the town to the twins' flat, to call in and see if Alice was alright. I popped into a newsagents along the way to buy her some of her favourite chocolate. Upon my arrival, it was to find Alice curled up on the sofa, cocooned in a duvet, red-nosed, puffy-eyed and surrounded by tissues...but not because she was ill...

"Jason and I are over," she wailed at me between sniffles, her voice thick as she blew at her nose noisily. "The wedding's off!"

I gawped at her in shock. "W-What? Since when?" I gasped.

"Since last night," she continued sullenly. "I found out yesterday that he's been seeing someone else!"

"No!" I cried, sinking down onto the sofa next to her. "How do you know?"

"Last night, after we'd got back from Delilah's, I thought I'd go round to his place. Only I find him...in his room with..." She broke off, closing her eyes and swallowing hard, as though she could not bring herself to repeat what she saw. She looked as though she was about to throw up now. But I didn't need her to continue; it did not take a genius to know what she had walked in on Jason doing...

"Did you know her?" I asked but Alice shook her head.

"No idea who she was... Apparently it's been going on for some time now... I don't know if he's in love with her or not. I don't know if that makes it worse!" she added, sounding utterly miserable. She was no longer crying but she looked entirely drained, like all the energy had been sapped out of her.

"Aw, god, Wonderland, I am _so _sorry..." I said sincerely, squeezing her hand in sympathy, as Imogen looked on.

"I guess I should've seen it coming... the mysterious phone calls, being distant...saying he's been working late...never wanting to spend time with me..." she sniffed, reeling off all the things she had deemed suspicious at the time.

_God, infidelity must be like the plague, _I thought. First my dad and now Jason. What was wrong with everybody?

"Hey, let's go out tonight," Imogen piped up suddenly after a moment. I looked around to stare at her. "You know – the three of us go out to a club or something... Go out, have some fun and take your mind off it," she added bracingly to Alice. "What d'you reckon, babes?"

I inwardly grimaced. I had been clubbing twice before in my life and that had been enough for me. Queuing up for ages, overpriced drinks, samey music which was so loud, you couldn't hear yourself think let alone speak. God, I sounded like such a whiney old woman, didn't I? My mum sometimes said that I was nineteen-going-on-ninety. Now, I had nothing against those who did enjoy that kind of thing, but it just wasn't my scene at all.

But my opinion did not come into it; I was sure that Alice would not be up to it, considering what she was going through. She did not appear too enthusiastic about the idea either. She only shrugged.

"Yeah, maybe," she mumbled, pushing the duvet cover off herself and rising to stand in front of a mirror so she could try and salvage her eyes and hair.

"Goodie!" exclaimed Imogen, clapping her hands excitedly, seeming to take Alice's answer as a 'yes'. "I'll go pick us some outfits!"

When the excitable twin had departed for her bedroom, I said quietly to Alice, "Are you sure you're up to going out clubbing?"

"I dunno...it might do me some good to go out somewhere," she sighed. She favoured me with a watery smile. "Thanks for dropping by, Rosie. I do appreciate it..."

"There's no need to thank me, I was worried about you," I told her, wrapping my arms around her in a tight hug. "I'm _really _sorry about you and Jason..." When we pulled apart, I added, "Is there no chance at all for you two now?"

"After what _he's_ done?" Alice asked incredulously, wiping her nose. "No bloody way!"

Not wanting to get her all worked up again, I changed the topic of conversation. "Hey, uh... I actually wanted to talk to you about something," I spoke in an undertone in case Imogen was anywhere nearby. "On your own."

Alice looked a bit taken aback at my words. "Oh?" was all she said.

"Without Imogen."

Alice pursed her lips in thought. Then she held up a forefinger in a 'one second' motion and hurried to fetch her boots. "Im?" she called out to her sister as she did so.

"Yeah?" I heard Imogen reply from the distance.

"I'm just gonna give Rosie a lift home, okay?"

"Righto!" she trilled back.

Once we were in the car and on the main road, Alice asked, "So what is it you wanna tell me that you couldn't say in front of Im? C'mon...spill!"

"I was going to tell you before but never got the chance to because Imogen's always been around...and I don't think she's gonna like what I'm going to tell you," I explained.

I hated having to hide things from Imogen but I definitely didn't think it would be a good idea mentioning about the Major asking out another woman in front of her. Not when she was so giddily happy when I gave her the necklace back and told her it was Jamie Stewart who had found it. Ever since then, she hadn't stopped wittering on about how the pair of them were 'meant to be'. I was sure she wouldn't be at all pleased to learn it was actually her own _sister _that he appeared to be more interested in.

Alice's hazel eyes still looked puffy from where she had been crying but they suddenly now glittered with interest at my statement.

"Oooh, I'm intrigued, go on..."

"Major Stewart asked me to ask you if you wanted to go to Georgina's party. With him – as his guest."

Alice jerked her head round to stare at me for a moment before immediately looking back at the road. I couldn't quite fathom her expression. A series of emotions flitted across her face. It seemed like she couldn't make up her mind whether to be shocked, flattered or confused that she was being invited in the first place - and by Major Stewart of all people. Though I did notice a little tinge of pink on her cheeks.

"He – what? Me? Are you sure?" she asked, frowning at me. I nodded. "Well, he's got a bloody nerve after the way he spoke to me."

I wanted to ask just what exactly he did say to her, but decided against it. I did not wish for her get all riled up again, not when her nerves were already on edge.

"Are you _sure _he asked for _me?_"

"Positive."

"But _why_? All we did was argue with each other when we met."

"Well, you must've made quite an impression on him or he wouldn't have asked you," I said with a shrug. "Maybe he's one of those guys who're mean to girls they actually like?" I added, grinning.

Alice, however, wasn't smiling. Her narrow face was set into a frown. She looked as though she was doing some serious thinking. After all, she had once said that the Major was 'up himself' and 'a patronising git'.

"He's nowhere near as bad as you make out, you know," I pointed out to her. "He's actually very nice once you get to know him..."

For it was true; beneath the gruffness and slightly pompous tendencies, I had found Jamie Stewart to be a very pleasant man, and a very dear friend to James. And at least he was honest too (unlike Jason, it turned out); true to his word, he had not breathed a word to anyone about my coming from the future.

"You could do a lot worse... He's a very handsome guy..." I smiled knowingly at Alice, who only rolled her eyes. I tried a different tack at persuading her. "It'd be nice to have a friendly face there at the party with me," I pooched out my bottom lip in a little pout and put on a wheedling voice.

Alice snorted, rolling her eyes - _again_. "Don't go giving me the kicked puppy face! You won't even know I'm there. You and Captain Sexy will be too busy making Bambi-Eyes at each other. Playing gooseberry isn't my style, babes."

Was she concerned that because her relationship with Jason was over, then seeing James and me together would be like rubbing her nose in it? I wouldn't do that to her.

"I dunno, Rosie, I'm not sure if I'm up to all that," she sighed finally, "... I'll think about it..."

And not another word was spoken on the subject.

* * *

When I told Mum that I was going out clubbing with the twins that evening, she immediately went into concerned-parent overload. But then, I could not really blame her. After all, I never usually went in for that type of thing.

"You _will _be careful, won't you, Rosie?" she repeatedly said to me in an anxious tone. "You hear about all kinds of things that go on at these places. People getting stabbed and all sorts - "

"Mum, I'll be fine," I soothed her. "I'll just stick with the twins and have a couple of drinks. This is just meant to cheer Alice up a bit."

Mum let out a sigh and her expression switched to one of sympathy for she of all people could understand the humiliation and heartbreak which my friend undoubtedly must have been going through right now.

"Poor girl..." she said quietly. "She's seems so lovely, she certainly doesn't deserve that. _No one _does. And they were about to get married too?" she asked me. When I nodded sadly, Mum said bracingly, "She's only young...she'll meet someone new in no time, I'm sure of it..." She fixed me with her concerned-parent stare once again. "You _will _ring me as soon as you're on your way home, won't you?"

"Yes, Mum, I promise," I sighed for the umpteenth time.

"I only say these things because I worry about you," my mother said, tugging affectionately on one of my dark curly locks. "You may be an adult now but to me, you're still my baby girl."

I returned her fond smile and gave her a hug. "I know you do and I love you for it..."

Even though a felt a stab of guilt like a knife in my heart that I had not told her about the whole situation about the door, the key and James.

It turned out that Mum was going out herself that evening. She had only gone and got herself a date, the dark horse! The man in question was called Graham, and owned one of the coffee places in town where Mum regularly delivered her cakes and other delicious treats. She had been so nervous about telling me, unsure of how I was going to react and insisted that it wasn't anything serious. When I had found out that Dad was getting remarried so soon, I had felt so angry and hurt that he could have moved on quickly. Once upon a time, I probably would have kicked up a fuss about Mum seeing a man as well, but I realised what was the use in that? It would be terribly childish of me. It was my mother's business who she wished to see, not mine. I wasn't going to stop her going out enjoying herself. It seemed that spending so much time with James, his calm patience and humility had rubbed off on me. It looked like dancing was not the only thing he had taught me...

* * *

A stuffy, noisy, claustrophobic club with what felt like thousands of people pressing in on you from all sides...or sitting in a beautiful parlour, drinking tea from dainty, floral-patterned cups or sitting under a blossom tree next to a handsome cavalry officer... Hmm, guess which one I preferred...

I let out a sigh, tossing my loose hair over my shoulder. I was willing to compromise and put on a game face for Alice's sake. This was meant to be her night after all. I nervously adjusted the black skirt I was wearing, feeling a bit self-conscious. It fell just above my knees and never usually saw the light of day, but it was the only item of clothing I owned which was suited to this environment. Coupled with the heels Imogen had lent me because she insisted that they would make my long legs look 'to die for'. I felt absolutely ridiculous, not 'to die for'.

Our first port of call was at the bar to order a round of drinks. It did not take long for Imogen to initiate a flirty conversation with a cluster of lads who had already been eyeing her up. A few minutes later, she was up on the floor dancing with one of them. One of his friends approached Alice, completely ignoring me – which suited me just fine.

"And does her pretty sister want a dance, too?" he asked, looking eagerly at her. He was quite cute, I suppose, if boyband-type lads were your cup of tea. Lord knows how he got allowed into the club though, he only looked about _twelve_. Actually, he could quite easily have been the sixth member of One Direction.

Alice spared him a glance and answered, "No thanks, you're alright...I'm on a date with Jack here – " she waggled her glass of Jack Daniels for emphasis.

She and I remained sitting at the bar while Imogen seemed to be the only one who was having the most fun out of all of us. Alice kept ordering one drink after another. I just stuck with my glass of Stella Artois, my favourite alcoholic beverage of choice. I wasn't entirely sure how long we had been here at the club. To me, it felt like forever but looking at my watch, I could see it had only been an hour or so.

I looked over at Alice. I felt my heart give a clench of sympathy as I saw her gazing dejectedly into her glass, as though hoping the bottom of it would save her from the horrible ordeal of her cheating partner.

"Are you feeling any better?" I called to her over the thumping beat of a song which I vaguely knew, thinking it was rather pointless asking her this even as I said it.

Alice shifted her shoulder in a sort of half-shrug.

"Not really," she called back. "I know Im means well and I do appreciate what she's trying to do but this isn't really helping. It doesn't change what Jason's done..."

She knocked back the rest of her whiskey in one long swig and promptly ordered another. It seemed she just wanted to try and block out Jason's betrayal by getting herself hammered instead. After a moment's thought, she said decisively,

"Do you know what? Sod it. I _am _going to go this party thingy with you tomorrow." I raised my eyebrows at her in surprise. "_Screw_ Jason, I don't need him... After all, how many chances d'you get to go back in time and get invited to a party?"

"Yeah, well, that's great to hear," I said. "Just take it easy, will you? I doubt having a wicked hangover at Georgina's party is gonna go down too well," I added, tapping her glass. Alice only rolled her eyes.

"Yes, _mother... _Oh Rosie, you twonk!" she said suddenly, swatting me lightly on the arm in an irate way.

"What have I done?"

"You should have let me know before! What am _I _supposed to wear, huh? I could've got a dress from Delilah's as well!"

I bit my lip. _Whoops._ I hadn't thought of that. But before either of us could speak any further on the subject, Alice spotted something over my shoulder, distracting her, and nudged me.

"Hey...isn't that the hottie biker who sold you your key?"

I choked on my Stella as she said that. Coughing slightly, I peeped over my shoulder at the direction she was nodding at. Not too far away from the bar was a group of young men laughing raucously. Some had drinks in their hands, others eyeing up women on the dance floor, reminding me forcibly of a pack of jackals hungrily sizing up a kill, waiting for the lions to finish. But it was the man at the centre whom my attention was focused on. Even in this poor light, there was no mistaking that mop of dark, wavy hair. Looking effortlessly sexy in jeans and a black button-up shirt, showing a tantalising view of collarbone and dark chest hair, Michael Paris was laughing at something one of his companions was saying.

"What's _he_ doing here?" I murmured, my question drowned out in the loud music.

I kept trying to persuade myself that it was merely a coincidence that he was here tonight, and yet something kept on nagging at the back of my mind that this wasn't the case. Just like the time when he just so _happened_ to be at McDonalds at the same time as me, and when he had turned up at my house... What was that about? Something really wasn't right about this guy...

After a while, Michael broke away from his little posse to approach the bar. I turned my head away in order not to be caught watching him as he asked the barman for another round of drinks, hoping he wouldn't see me. No such luck...

"Rosie...hi," I suddenly heard him say. I inwardly grimaced and turned to see him grinning at me, not looking the least surprised to see me. "Fancy running into _you_ here."

"Oh, hi... Uh, yup...small world, eh?" I answered, letting out a little nervous laugh.

"Hey there," Michael added to Alice, nodding his head at her in acknowledgement. "Can I get either of you ladies another drink?"

"No, thank you," I said but right at the exact same time, Alice answered loudly, "Yes, please!"

He smiled at us in a way which would make any girl's knees go weak...and maybe when I had first met him, it would have had that same effect on me. But now it didn't. One of his friends, a burly-looking guy with closely-cropped brown hair, came over to join him to help carry their order of drinks.

"Oh, this is Ben," Michael introduced his friend in a careless manner. "Ben, this is Alice and Rosie... Rosie's the one who bought my key from me..."

"Ah, cool. You alright?" Ben greeted us. "Do you girls want to join us?" he offered.

I looked around hastily for Imogen in the dancing crowd but from where I was, I couldn't spot her. Where was she?

"Sure! Why not?" I heard Alice say cheerfully. Well, she seemed to have perked up.

_What? No! _

As Alice was engaged in conversation with this Ben, I could feel Michael's gaze upon me, which made the hairs on the back of my neck prickle unpleasantly. I turned to look at him and he quickly smiled at me, though I noticed the smile did not quite meet his chocolate-brown eyes.

"Bit of a..um...a coincidence...you being here tonight," I threw out casually, trying to sound offhand about it.

"Yeah, what're the odds, eh?" he said shortly, taking a swig of his beer.

I chewed on my lip in thought. Should I ask him what he was doing at my house?

_Oh, to hell with it, _I thought, _just go ahead and say it. _

"Have you been following me?" I demanded of him suddenly. _Whoa, I didn't mean to ask him outright just like that! Bugger it... _

Michael blinked at me, though he did not seem exactly perturbed by my question.

"Following you? Why the hell would I do that?" he asked me, his brows furrowing. "I only came here tonight with some mates."

Unconvinced, I ploughed on, "It's just it's weird that you _happened _to be there with my parcel that day and now tonight..." I shook my head. "What're you playing at?"

Michael gave me one of those infuriatingly patronising expressions as if I was somebody very slow and dim-witted.

"I think you're being paranoid – " he started to say, leaning his head towards me and I caught the acrid smell of cigarette smoke on his person.

"And _I_ think you're lying," I said impatiently, backing a step or two from him. "Why did you turn up at my house that time?"

"Just taking a _friendly_ interest... you know, what sort of home that my key went to..."

That wasn't an answer!

"You're not gonna tell me the real reason, are you?"

He only smiled enigmatically. I was getting nowhere fast here. I let out a frustrated sigh. I didn't particularly want to stay in this man's company, so I muttered something about needing some fresh air, which wasn't altogether far from the truth. It was very hot and stuffy in the club, and I was getting a severe headache.

With some difficulty in these ridiculously high-heeled shoes of Imogen's, I made my solitary out of the nearest exit, and tottered down some steps and onto the pavement. It was almost dark outside, though it wasn't at all cold. It was a relief to reach the outside air, away from the claustrophobic-ness of the nightclub. A little group of teenagers wearing hoods were skulking around nearby and I quickly gave them a wide berth.

Once again, I felt a pang of longing of wanting to be back in 1914. It suddenly dawned on me just how much happier I was when I was there. That club...well, I was definitely out of my comfort zone there.

I was just contemplating whether to go back and tell the twins I wanted to call it a night, when a felt a hand grab my arm roughly.

"Hey - !"

Before I knew what was happening, I was being tugged unceremoniously into the shadow of a nearby shop. Heart racing with terror, I tried to scream out but my cries were muffled by a large hand covering my mouth. The next thing I knew, I was completely winded as I felt my back hit solid brick wall as I was slammed hard against it. That was going to bruise later on, but right now, that wasn't my biggest problem...

"_Don't scream_," a male voice hissed threateningly at me from the shadows. But I couldn't make a noise, not even a peep, even if I wanted to. I was too downright terrified.

I squinted into the gloom, trying to discern the identity of my assailant who was pinning me to the wall. I caught the unpleasant whiff of cigarettes and alcohol. Then he moved slightly and the sliver of light shining from a lamppost out on the pavement played onto his face... I felt my heart drop to my knees and my blood run cold...

_Oh, god... _

It was Michael.

* * *

_Dun dun dun!_

_I guess I share Rosie's opinion on going out clubbing. If we actually danced like they did in the old days, even back in the 40s, I might actually take an interest in it. _

_Oh, to the lovely AussieMaelstrom – or to anyone who's interested – I've put a link on my profile if you want to see the dress I based Rosie's one on :)_

_Hope you liked the chapter my darlings! Please don't forget to review! Until next time :) xx _


	14. Chapter 14

_Hello darlings! :) Thanks so much for the amazing reviews and for any faves/follows. I love you all! Hope you enjoy this chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

I had barely let this fact sink in, when Michael snarled at me, "Alright...I've had enough of this tiptoeing around, Rosie! _Why_ you did you buy that key from me?"

His hoarse voice sent horrible chills down my spine and being in this close proximity to him, my nostrils were filled with nothing but the pungent scent of stale cigarettes. It took me a minute or two before I was able to answer him. His slamming me against the wall had completely winded me.

"I told you before, I collect them," I started feebly, wincing from the pain between my shoulder blades.

"_Bollocks_!" he said viciously. "Who's the liar now, huh? I _know _that you know something about what it _really_ does!" His hands were encircling my upper arms in a vice-like grip, pinning me to the wall. "What do you know? _Tell me!"_ he added harshly, still managing to keep his voice down so as not to attract attention from passersby on the street.

So...did this mean that he _didn't _know what power the key supposedly had? I didn't understand... What was going on?

I struggled against him, trying desperately to free myself, wincing when he would not slacken his grip. In fact, my movements only seemed to make him tighten his hold on me.

"Get your hands off me!" I hissed at him, trying hard not to panic and failing appallingly. "I'm not telling you _anything_! I don't even know what you're talking about!"

_How did I ever think that this guy was attractive? _I thought wildly.

"Oh, really?" Michael said sardonically. "So you know nothing about that door in your bedroom, then? The one that shouldn't go anywhere?"

I gulped. Fear was piercing at my heart like a thousand sharp blades. How the hell did he know about the door? Michael was watching me carefully, seeming to guess the truth.

"Where...does...that...door...go?" he asked me slowly, sounding as though it was costing him an awful lot of effort to remain calm and to keep his voice steady.

When I failed to answer, one of his spider-like hands released my arm but instead flew to the side of my throat and squeezed threateningly.

"If you don't tell me, I swear to God I'll break that pretty neck of yours!"

Even though I was scared witless that he might act upon this threat, I raised my chin in what I hoped was a defiant manner.

"I'm not going to tell you _anything,_" I said with a calmness and bravado which I _certainly_ didn't feel.

But I certainly wasn't going to let on any information about the key or the door. If this guy was a dangerous nutter, then there was no way on earth that I would subject James, Georgina or any of them in that time to him. I would never forgive myself.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be, Rosie..." Michael continued in a dangerously low growl, abandoning all pretence of remaining calm. When I still failed to answer him, he said through gritted teeth, "If you don't tell me...then I will just have to take what I want by _force_..."

In the pallid glare from the lamppost, I caught the expression in Michael's brown eyes which looked almost black in the failing light. They were filled with anger, greed, determination and something else entirely which made my insides freeze as though I had ingested a bucketful of ice. _Oh my god... _That was _lust _in his eyes...and it could not have been any clearer what his intentions were. One of his hands was still pinning me to the wall, but the other which had been fastened to the side of my throat suddenly began to make its descent to the hem of my skirt... _Oh, hell no! _

Though I was paralysed with fear, somewhere within me, I could feel a hot rush of anger boil up. No, no, no... I was _not _going to let this happen to me! I wasn't about to stand there all helpless and passive for him to let him do god knows what to me... I had to do something!

Knowing that I had to act quickly, with all the strength I could muster in my desperation, I brought my leg up...and promptly kneed Michael in the groin. I heard him utter a loud groan of pain and he drew back, but I did not dare linger to see if I had successfully hit my mark. In a blind panic, I pushed past him and fled to the main street, back into the open where there was people milling about on the pavement. Breathing hard, gathering my wits, I looked around desperately for a taxi, spotted one not far off and held out my arm to hail it. I wanted to put as much distance between myself and Michael as was humanly possible. As soon as the taxi driver had slowed to a stop, I all but flew onto the back seat, slamming the door closed behind me.

"Yes, love, where to?" the cabbie asked me friendlily, turning his head slightly to look at me. I couldn't answer at first; I was too busy trying to catch my breath and will my heart rate to relax. " 'ere now, you're not plastered, are you?" the cab driver asked me in slight alarm. "D'you know how long that smell stays when someone throws up in 'ere - ?"

"I-I'm not drunk," I assured him in a shaking voice.

"You sure you're alright though, love?" he asked in concern, furrowing his brows as he took a good look at my face. "You look very pale."

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine. I j-just want to g-go home..."

I told the driver my address, looking out of the back window of the taxi to check whether Michael had followed me, but there was no sign of him anywhere on the street. Once we were on our way, I slumped back in my seat, huffing out a shaky breath. I then pulled my phone out from my bag – which I had miraculously managed to hold on to - and scrolled down to Alice's number. Opening up a blank message, I quickly typed out:

_Had enough, sorry. Gone home. Got a taxi. Call u later, R xxx _

I sent the text, faintly surprised that the message was intelligible as my hands were shaking so badly, hoping Alice would have the presence of mind to check her phone as she probably wouldn't be able to hear it inside the club and that by the time she read it, she wasn't blind drunk. Just to be sure, I sent the same message to Imogen as well. Looking back on it, I probably should have gone back to find the twins...but I suppose right now I was in too much of a panic to think straight and I just wanted to be as far away from that club as possible.

When at last I reached my house and stepped out of the taxi, I noticed the lights were all off. Mum couldn't have been home yet. I realised that I must have left the club still pretty early. I hastily gave the cabbie his fare, who, rather sweetly I thought, told me to take care of myself before I ran to let myself into the house. Sure enough, when I flicked on a light, Mum was conspicuous by her absence. I let out an audible sniff, finding myself at a bit of a loss. I would have loved nothing better than to have a cuddle with my mummy right now...for her to comfort me and stroke my hair the way she always did whenever I was upset over anything. Nothing could hurt me while I was in my mother's arms. The monsters and demons would all go away...

I hurried upstairs to my room, where I dumped my bag, and then flopped onto my bed, still fully dressed. I grabbed up Olly, my little stuffed dog, and cuddled him tightly to my chest like a security blanket, willing myself to stop shaking.

Left here all alone in the house where it was eerily silent except for the faint gurgle of the pipes, it led to my imagination running completely riot at what might have happened if I hadn't got the hell away from Michael. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, trying to force myself not to think of what might have been. But it was extremely difficult _not _to; it was like someone telling you not to think of an elephant but you immediately think of an elephant anyway.

Tears of shock involuntarily fell down my cheeks. _Oh, how silly... _I thought, impatiently scraping them away with my hands. I didn't want to cry over _him. _That waste of space wasn't worth it. I wasn't sure how long I lay there curled up in the middle of my bed, when all of a sudden, I heard a soft _tap-tap-tap. _

Now what?

I tensed and slowly sat up, my eyes flying around the room to see where the noise was coming from. I slid myself off the bed to have a look around when I heard it again. A gentle _tap-tap-tap. _Then it dawned on me that it was coming from behind my mystery door. I bent down beneath my bed to retrieve the key. I felt a sickening sensation in my stomach as I looked down at the brass piece, unable to see it now without thinking about its previous owner. Taking a deep breath, I slowly but cautiously approached the door, biting my lip. Should I open it? I carefully unlocked it where it gave out a loud _click_... I swallowed nervously as I inched the door open a crack to find myself faced with a very familiar pair of twinkling blue eyes.

"James?"

I pulled the door open wider, the hinges creaking as I did so. The light from my bedroom flooded the stairway beyond, and sure enough to my surprise, there was James on the top step.

"Hello, Rosie. I hope I am not disturbing you, it's just that you left behind your – "

He held up what I recognised as my hooded top which I had been wearing during my last visit to his world. James broke off suddenly as he took in what must have been my rather dishevelled appearance. As his gaze swept over my panda eyes – which I hastily tried to fix with my hands but probably made them worse - his smiling demeanour immediately changed to one of concern and worry.

"Oh...thank you," I said, taking the top from him and attempting a smile, trying my best to compose myself and not doing a very good job of it. "Uh...do you, um..." I swallowed. "Do you want to come in?" I asked him, feeling it would be rude to keep him hanging around on the steps. At his slight hesitation, I added, "It's fine, my mum's not even here..."

James was so tall that he had to duck his head as he stepped through the doorway. As I closed the door behind him, I saw him survey my bedroom quickly before he turned back to face me, his brows still furrowed in concern.

"Rosie, you look as white as a sheet, what's the matter?" he asked me urgently, immediately sensing my agitation.

I was tempted to say "Nothing" but I could feel my composure crumble under his scrutiny. There was little point in lying to him. My lip trembled, and before I could stop myself, I had buried my face against his chest, one hand reaching up to cling to the one of the lapels of his smart jacket, not caring one jot if it was inappropriate or whatever. I wasn't going to cry...I just wanted someone to hold me. I could feel him freeze for a moment as though in shock but then I felt two long, very strong but gentle arms wrap themselves around me. I inhaled deeply, relishing his comforting, clean scent. He smelt of leather, fresh air and something else distinctly masculine which made him so..._James. _

"You're trembling like a leaf, old thing," he said, running a hand up and down my back soothingly. "Whatever is it?"

I pulled back a little to look up at him. In a rather wobbly voice, I relived to him what had happened earlier today, from when Alice had discovered her fiancée had been seeing somebody else behind her back; Imogen's spontaneous suggestion of going out clubbing to cheer her up and take her mind off it...then to my frightening encounter with Michael Paris... As I reached the part where that creep had me cornered, I could feel my throat seize up as though I couldn't go on. I saw James' normally kind eyes darken and even spotted a spark of rage there, and I felt his fingers tighten on my shoulders, though not hard enough to cause me any discomfort.

"Did he hurt you?" he demanded suddenly, his voice tight. "He didn't – ?"

"_No!_ No, he didn't," I assured him hastily, "I kneed him in the balls, legged it and managed to get a taxi home..." Though I felt sick with dread at the thought if I hadn't managed to escape from Michael. "It just shook me up a lot."

"Thank god you left before he could...do anything else. I don't even want to think about what could have happened if..." James trailed off, swallowing back a lump in his throat.

His hold on me became tighter as if he had allowed his mind to wander to that terrible place. He pulled me into his embrace once more so that my head was rested against his chest. I could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat; the sound was oddly comforting.

"But what does Michael even want?" I mumbled against him, that question which had been plaguing me.

"That doesn't matter at present...all that matters is that you are safe," James said.

Knowing that he was right, my hand crept up to where one of his rested on my arm and I gave it a squeeze. I had no idea how long the two of us remained like this but I could have stayed here in his arms forever.

"Why don't you let me make you some tea to calm your nerves?" he suggested quietly. "Put some colour back into those cheeks?"

Despite myself, I wanted to laugh and roll my eyes. Tea...the solution to _everything. _

"As I remember correctly, you did not take very kindly to brandy..." he added and I heard the trace of laughter in his tone, which made me smile in response. He'd only been here for a few minutes and I was already feeling miles better.

"Tea sounds lovely actually," I sighed, pulling back from him. "Come on then...kitchen's this way..."

I tugged on his hand to lead the way down the stairs. As we reached the hallway, James still kept a firm hold on my hand as though scared something untoward would happen to me if he let go. But he gazed around in wide-eyed wonder at the odd assortment of furniture in our living room, taking in all the gadgets were no doubt strange to his eyes.

"So...this is the year 2012 then..." he said at length, unable to keep the awe out of his voice at the fact that he was really in the future.

I nodded. "I know this is nowhere near as grand as your house but – "

"Nonsense...I think that this is a charming home," James answered, as I led him into the kitchen. "It is so quaint."

'Quaint' was not the word I would have used to describe the place when we had first arrived here but now...yes, I suppose it did have a certain charm to it. As I made to go make some tea, James stopped me.

"No, no, you sit down," he told me, pulling out a chair from the kitchen table and steering me onto it. "Let me do it."

But for all his eagerness to be helpful, he couldn't fathom how the electric kettle worked at first, which amused me somewhat.

"Just fill it up with water like you would normally and flick the switch at the wall there – " I pointed at the power socket I meant.

I watched him bustle about the kitchen, me indicating where various things were, and for the first time that evening, a genuine smile crept its way onto my face. It was quite surreal seeing him here in the twenty-first century world, in our modern kitchen amongst the gleaming surfaces and shiny appliances. And yet at the same time, it felt a real comfort that he was here with me right now. I had to smile as he marvelled over the fact that the kettle boiled so quickly.

"Here you are..." he said eventually, "milk and two sugars, just how you like it."

"You're the best, thank you," I smiled at him, accepting the hot mug gratefully as it warmed my shaky hands.

However, I didn't actually get to drink any of my tea; my hands were still trembling so much that I dropped my mug. It ricocheted off the edge of the table and shattered on the floor with a crash. Biting back a stream of extremely unladylike expletives, I let out a heavy sigh of frustration and went to fetch a cloth to mop up the mess. James bent down to help me gather up the broken shards of china. Then I flinched and let out a faint hiss of pain as one sharp piece sliced into my palm.

"Dammit," I cursed. I stood up and went to wash my hand under the cold tap to try and stem the bleeding. I wasn't usually such a klutz. But then again, I was exceptionally talented at embarrassing myself in front of James. "This just isn't my day, is it?" I mumbled. "That was my favourite mug too..."

"These things happen," James answered, standing next to me, looking more concerned at my injury than the state of my mug. "Now let me see that hand."

"It's just a cut – "

"All the same..." he insisted, holding his hand out to me so he could inspect my palm. "You should have it dressed, lest it becomes infected."

"There's a first aid kit under the sink," I murmured.

James brought out the green medical box which Mum kept handy at all times, and then sat beside me at the kitchen table, moving his chair closer to mine. I watched him as he set to work nursing my hand. He seemed to be making rather a business of it over such a little cut but I didn't care. I contented myself in watching his hands; I found them deeply fascinating. The pale, long, slender digits carefully wrapped a bandage around my comparatively smaller hand. And when he was finished, to my enormous surprise, he bent his head to place a gentle kiss on my palm (_Oh Lord, have mercy!_), his lips lingering far longer than what must be deemed appropriate...

"There...all better?" he asked me in no more than a whisper, the pad of his thumb running over my skin oh-so softly.

He was staring intently at me with those impossibly aquamarine pools, his gaze roving all over my face. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck and the fuzz on my arm tingle. It was the most tender expression I had ever seen on anyone's face, let alone his.

"I am now," I answered just as quietly.

Slowly, he tucked a hand to the side of my face, leaning closer to me... My heartbeat ratcheted up a few notches... _No, no, this isn't happening! _my mind screamed. _This isn't real! _... His lips slid onto mine ever so gently, as soft as a butterfly's wing.

_Ka-boom. _

My heart stopped, seeming to give in completely... Once I had got over my initial shock, I squeezed my uninjured hand over his and kissed back, pressing my lips firmly to his. They were soft, warm and inviting. As though encouraged that I had not recoiled at his touch, I felt James' hands creep tentatively to my waist, and when I did not protest, he pulled me closer to him. I emitted a little noise of approval, my other hand snaking its way up to his shoulder to keep him in place. The sting of the cut on my palm and the ache between my shoulder blades was now long forgotten...

I had had a couple of crushes on boys during my time at school, but I had never felt this _aching_ need for somebody coursing through my veins as I did for this man before me. These feelings were so new and alien to me...it was both wonderful and alarming at the same time. Unbidden, the memory of that day when I had walked in on James getting dressed and I had caught a fleeting glimpse of his bare back in his mirror came creeping into my mind. Unconsciously, I found myself deepening the kiss. I was expecting him to break away at any moment, perhaps thinking I had gone too far, but to my surprise (and delight) he responded enthusiastically; I could feel him smiling against my mouth.

But all too soon, the pair of us were in need of oxygen. We broke apart, breathless, and I could feel this great bubble of happiness swelling up inside me. I slowly opened my eyes to see that James' still remained closed for the moment. He, too, looked so happy in that instant. Even years on from now, when I was old and grey, I wouldn't ever forget the expression of pure bliss and contentment on his face. Until his eyes suddenly snapped open and he stared me.

"I'm sorry – "

"What're you saying sorry for?" I demanded, unable to keep the slight tone of frustration out of my voice.

"After what you have just been through tonight, Rosie, I wouldn't dream of taking advan – "

But I cut him off, placing a finger over his lips before placing my hands on either side of his neck.

"James, this is the most wonderful and romantic thing that has ever happened to me, so _please _don't go spoiling the moment with apologies," I begged him in a whisper.

James relaxed, letting out a sigh almost in relief that he had not frightened me off for good. He placed a tender kiss on my forehead, and I closed my eyes at the contact, thoroughly enjoying the feel of his lips on my skin.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he murmured as he looked at me through hooded eyes. I quirked an eyebrow at him in surprise.

"How long?" I asked curiously.

James leaned forward to press a feather-light kiss to my temple. As he did so, he asked softly, "How long have we been friends for now?" The timbre of his voice near my ear sent electric sparks dancing down my spine.

"Uh...when we first had tea together back in...March, I guess?" I manage to stutter out. His sheer closeness was almost rendering me incoherent of speech.

James looked almost shy for the first time as he confessed, "Since I first invited you to have tea that day in March then."

I was so taken aback by this admission that I couldn't speak and had me almost crying. So I had been worrying about him not feeling the same way as me for nothing? What an idiot I am! I reached out to lightly trace my thumb across his bottom lip and across his handsome cheek.

"Same here," I whispered, realising this for the first time. James smiled brilliantly, the gesture sending my heart somewhere to the vicinity of my knees. He shook his head and chuckled in amusement.

"What a pair of damned fools we are..."

I laughed, leaning forward to engage him in a light kiss before I rested my forehead against his, feeling so dizzyingly happy right now I thought I might burst with the feeling.

"I can't imagine your dad is going to be happy when he finds out about this," I said after a moment.

James sighed, and I could feel his breath tickle my face. "I have no doubt...but I do not much care what he thinks," he added stubbornly.

"Yes, you do," I said quietly, "Why else do you let him talk to you the way he does?"

I knew that James did his best trying to do right by and please his father but half the time, Mr. Nicholls spoke to his son like he was some silly little boy who did not know his own mind. During my visits into their era, he did not seem to be happy unless he was putting James down in some way. And as if that wasn't enough, he did it in front of others too – Major Stewart, Georgina, myself... I didn't know how James could put up with it at times.

I saw James frown, his jaw set, a crease forming between his brows. With a slight edge to his tone, he asked me,

"Can we _please_ not talk about my father?"

"Sorry..." I apologised, squeezing his hand to let him know I did not mean any offence. At his reassuring smile, I leaned my head against his shoulder, my eyes drifting closed. The pair of us fell into a companionable silence. I could feel James now stroking my hair, those deliciously long fingers buried in my jet-black mess.

"You like the monster then, do you?" I asked him smilingly, my eyes still closed.

"The what?" he asked with a little laugh. I opened my eyes.

"When I was a kid, I used to pretend that a hairy curly monster had attached itself to my scalp and wouldn't let go. It's a bit of a pain in the bum, my hair..."

"You should have seen _my_ hair when I was child," he joked. "I had curls which could rival that of a lion's mane."

I couldn't help but giggle at this mental image of James as a little boy. "Awww! I bet you looked adorable!" I teased, inwardly squealing at the thought. "I've often been tempted to have my hair all chopped off – "

"No, please don't!" James said quickly, sounding shocked. When I stared up at him, he added sheepishly, "I think your hair is lovely."

"Oh, you silver-tongued charmer, you," I teased, though I flushed a little at the compliment.

The two of us sat there at the kitchen table together, hands intertwined, our fingers doing a little dance all of their own. Time did not seem to have any meaning while I was in James' company.

"I suppose I had best be getting back or I will be missed," he whispered after a while, though he sounded most reluctant about it.

I didn't want him to leave so soon, but then I told myself to stop being so pathetic. I was going to see him tomorrow at Georgina's party. Once we were back in my room and I had opened the door for him, before he left, he turned back to face me, his forehead creased in slight concern as he asked quietly, "Are you going to be alright?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Mum'll be home soon, I'm sure."

"Oh, by the way...Gina wishes to know – or rather 'frantic' would be the better word to use - if you have had any success in finding an outfit for her party yet?"

"As a matter of fact...yes, I have," I said proudly, patting the plastic protective cover which was hung up on my wardrobe door, obscuring Delilah's wonderful creation from view. As James made to have a look, I held up a forefinger. "Ah-ah-ah, no peeking, mister!" I told him playfully, lightly poking him on the chest. "You'll have to wait until tomorrow."

James feigned a look of disappointment before he smiled.

"Until tomorrow, then," he relented.

"Oh, and if you see Major Stewart, you can tell him that Alice _will _be coming as well." _Provided of course she hasn't got a hangover, _I thought to myself.

"She has consented to come? That's splendid news. I am sure Jamie will be most pleased to hear that...even though he won't admit it," he added with a mischievous grin.

I returned his grin, and then, with a boldness I didn't know I possessed, I reached out a hand to hook my finger around one of his braces, tugging him towards me. Taking the hint, James gave me a sly smile, bent his head down to kiss me again, our lips meeting eagerly this time. As his hands came to rest at my waist, tugging me against him, it was all I could do to stop my knees from buckling. How did such an awful, disastrous evening turn into such a perfect one?

"I wish you pleasant dreams tonight, my dear," he whispered against my lips.

Oh, I knew _exactly _what I was going to be dreaming about tonight. The incident with Michael seemed like a lifetime ago now. I _was _still shaken up by the whole ordeal...but my actual knight in shining armour had come along to banish those terrible memories away...

"Goodnight..." I whispered to him.

I watched James step through the door and make his descent down the stairway until the darkness swallowed him up and I could see him no longer. Beaming from ear to ear like an idiot, I closed the door after him and locked it, turning to lean my back against it.

All of a sudden, I heard a buzzing noise coming from my pocket and then the sound of my mobile phone ringing. Staring at the screen, I saw that it was Alice calling me.

"Hello?"

"_Rosie? Rosie - Babes, what happened? Are you okay? Is everything alright?"_ came Alice's frantic voice at the other end, bombarding me with questions.

"I'm fine," I told her once I was able to get a word in."Everything's alright... Actually...everything's _better_ than alright."

* * *

_I hope you enjoyed the chapter, my beautiful readers! And yes, I know, they kissed at last! :D_

_I couldn't resist the image of a little boy James having curls; I was watching Cranford recently and I just love Tom's curls in that, they sort of beg to have your fingers buried in them. Hnng. Oh and did anyone spot my itty-bitty reference to Loki? :) hehe. _

_Next chapter...it's partaaay tiiime! Until next time, darlings! Please don't forget to review! _

_PS: I've started to get some ideas for a story focused solely on Major Jamie Stewart involving a modern OC but in reverse. After going to see Star Trek Into Darkness (how amazing is that film?), I had a huge dose of Benedict Cumberbatch feels and I feel that the Major deserves some love as well. Would any of you lovely people be interested in reading that? Your feedback would be most appreciated! :) _

_Xx _


End file.
